Limbo
by neverlily
Summary: Bella's living in limbo and when she meets Edward, she makes a decision that could ruin her marriage. But when all the two of them know is lies and half-truths, their frequent one-step-forward, two-step-back tango is bound to lead to heartache.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Unless otherwise mentioned, this entire work is unbeta'd. Any mistakes are my own.**

**Disclaimer: All recognised characters belong to their respective owners; the storyline is truly my own, in the most part I'm living it, as tragic as that might be. We all make mistakes.  
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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

"What is this to you?" I ask, equally terrified that he'll say it's nothing and something.

"I don't know, I thought it was just this"—he indicates the disheveled sheets—"but then I wondered if maybe it could have led to something more," Edward hesitates, seemingly worried what my reaction will be as he avoids my eyes.

"Oh." I breathe the word out through my lips, thankful that the only light in the room is from one tiny flickering candle.

"I figured not after your last text." His voice sounds almost hollow and cold and my whole body flinches as I remember what I wrote in an effort to appear casual and anything but clingy or needy.

_No strings means you don't owe me any explanations. It's fine._

"Don't be like that, please?" I whisper, reaching for him and wondering if he'll ever know just how much I wanted to tell him that 'no strings' was the most ridiculous idea to base any sort of arrangement on. "My life is just…complicated, that's all."

"What are you married or something?" His eyes fixate on mine.

The silence in the room is almost deafening, if not for the blood rushing through my ears.

I don't want to lie but I can't get the words out of my mouth either. My throat starts to close and I have never before wanted to utter the word _no_ to anything quite so badly.

"Babe, are you married?"

I can't do it. I lie still and remain quiet.

"Just tell me," Edward says softly, almost lazily, and I know then that he realizes he already knows the answer; I'm only delaying the inevitable.

"I didn't want to tell you." The voice doesn't sound like my own.

"It's okay." Resignation—heavy and thick. What have I done?

"I should go." I move to get out of bed but he stops me, one arm around my waist, the other on my shoulder, tugging me back to his side.

"You've been drinking, you should stay. You can't drive anyway."

Oh right, I'd forgotten about the wine…and the vodka. It seems so long ago that I drank either of them, and our conversation has been quite sobering.

Lying in the dark with his breath against my neck, I can't help but think about his reason for me to stay. I'm here because it's safe and responsible and drink driving isn't, not because he wanted me to.

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><p><strong>AN: These will all just be short drabbly thoughts, mostly to help me process<strong>. **Your own thoughts are welcome, your judgement is not; you are probably not going to like this Bella very much. Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I don't know how frequently I'll be updating this; I'll be writing as I post and living it as I write.**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 2<span>**

"Come on, you know I like you," Edward says, but guys will say anything to get a girl into bed—even though I'm already in his and he doesn't have to try that hard.

"I like you too." I let my head roll to the side, avoiding his eyes, and I can still feel his breath bathing my skin as his nose brushes my shoulder. I feel vulnerable, but I always do with him, like my soul is seeping out through my skin.

"It's just complicated."

I cringe, knowing what's coming next and hating that he's even thinking it.

"But you're married." His fingers trace an invisible pattern on my arm as I lie in the crook of his shoulder and for a moment I think I can hear a hint of disappointment in his voice before he sighs.

"I know," I whisper. "And you have a girlfriend." My chest constricts as I say the words. She didn't exist until I confessed my life wasn't so simple. Part of me wonders if he pulled someone into his life in an attempt to even the playing field. Like maybe his defences are up as he tries to keep us on some sort of twisted, even ground. His reasons don't really matter, I'm jealous regardless and a tear forms in my eye before I can stop it.

What started off as a casual arrangement between two consenting adults has, for me at least, fast spiraled into a need to be near him. But despite Edward's words I know it's not the same for him. I know there must be others like me. Girls he calls or texts in the middle of the night—or maybe the day, but that's never me. Girls with better offers than what I can give him.

I try not to think about it but my mind wanders all too often. Who was in his bed last? Whose taste lingered last on his tongue? When he cancels on me is it for the reason he says or because someone better is pinned beneath him? It shouldn't matter. I don't matter, not to him, not in the way I want to, but it still hurts. My head. My pride. My heart…maybe.

"We really should start being careful," I muse out loud as I always do when I'm in his bed.

"I know," he agrees.

I laugh lightly under my breath. "You're full of shit. I bring condoms every time I come over and we never use them." I turn my back to him and he pulls me closer, spooning into me, his body warm and hard where mine is cool and soft. "That's what's going to get us caught, you know. When he goes through my bag and wonders why I need those at a girlfriend's house." I always give my husband the same excuse; an overnight stay at a girlfriend's from work. He questioned it once. We argued. He's not questioned it since.

"So take them out," Edward murmurs next to my ear, pushing his hips into me. "You know we won't use them." He's right, we won't. I like the feel of him too much. Definitely more than I should.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I'm jealous," I murmur, not really wanting to confess and give Edward the power that the words afford him.

"Of?" he asks as I roll away from him. Shame and possession both simmer just under the surface of my skin and I can't bring myself to look into his eyes. He isn't mine, likely won't ever be; he doesn't want me anyway—not like that.

"Your girlfriend." Words so soft I barely hear them over the rush of humiliation through my ears.

"Oh, Bella," he whispers. His voice is gentle, a warm caress that gives me the tiniest hope that just maybe... And then I realise, he's said my name. I told him it only once, under the shroud of darkness I whispered it against his skin as he was close to sleep.

I turn onto my side, keeping my back to him so that he doesn't see the tears that begin to blur my vision. I'm so confused. I hold my breath so my body doesn't shudder as the tears spill over, but somehow he still knows.

"Come here," he says, moving to slide one arm under my neck and one arm over my hip. His front is pressed firmly to my back, strong arms wrapped around me, and all I can think is that I'm ruining everything.

I won't be back; he won't text again. I shouldn't have said anything. What was supposed to be fun has now become a bit too real and emotional. What guy wants to deal with that sort of horse shit from the girl he's just trying to have some naughty fun with?

His next words surprise me.

"We're just both in a bit of a complicated situation. We'll figure something out." Naively, I hope he's right. "What started off as no strings—I always hated that—just isn't anymore. Not for me, anyway." His fingers trace the tattoo on my wrist as he talks, and I tangle my legs with his under the duvet in an effort to get closer to him somehow.

"It's not for me anymore either," I mumble, watching as he links his fingers with mine and finally stills.

As he drifts into sleep, my mind idly wanders, and I consider how much of what he's just said is only words. I don't question anything he tells me, even when I know it's nonsense, because really, he doesn't owe me an explanation, and because I want to be here, regardless of the lies he tells.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Why do you do this?" I finally muster the courage to ask. I feel like more of a whore tonight than any other and I want him to say it's not like that. He won't but I need reminded of my place here; I'm nothing to him and I need to stop falling...

"Do what?" I can't see Edward's face when he replies. He's tucked me under his chin and I've curled my body into his side.

"Have me stay over," I clarify. I don't add, _when you could ask your girlfriend instead_, but probably only because I don't want to hear him say that he asked her first and she couldn't come over.

"Same reason you come over, babe," he responds without missing a beat. "I like having you here."

And I do like being here, but our reasons aren't really the same. The internal battle continues to war in my mind and my mental filter fails me, again.

"I don't think our reasons are the same." The words are uttered on the slightest breath, barely said, but heard nonetheless. "I think I'm only here because you like it when I'm naughty..." I say, thinking back to what his hands were just doing, disappointed that I have to be _this _person in order to keep his interest.

I wonder, not for the first time, if Edward's girlfriend is sweet and if he loves her gently. If he keeps me around because she won't do the seemingly deviant sexual things he enjoys. If it's because he walks on eggshells with her but he knows he can push harder with me and I'll likely fold.

"If that was true, then you wouldn't stay over, would you?" he rationalises, and for a moment I think he's right, but then I remember all of his text messages. He almost always hinges my coming over on being naughty, like it's a condition...

"Hmmm, I just won't be naughty anymore then," I say, though there's a teasing lilt to my voice because really, he might call my bluff.

"Sure you won't." He laughs sleepily. "You're a naughty girl."

Only because you want me to be and only because I want to come back.

I feel like no less of a whore now than when our conversation started.

"I'm really not," I defend weakly. Not naughty. Not a whore.

"Okay, babe." And that should be good enough. Edward confirms what I need to hear; he believes that this is what I'm really like. By dismissing my protests, feeble as they are, he shows I really do mean nothing to him. But it's what I need to hear.

We lapse into silence but my thoughts aren't quiet. They are loud in my head and talk over each other, desperate to be heard.

"I think about you more than I should." The words slip randomly off my tongue before I can stop them, and I wish I could take them back as soon as they're out of my mouth.

Edward says nothing, just runs his hand up my back, over my shoulder and down my arm, like he's trying to comfort me. In that moment I don't want his comfort, I want to know that maybe, just once in the last couple of months, he's thought of me too. But he hasn't.

I want to leave, to go home, to be embarrassed and ashamed there instead of here in his bed, but at the same time I don't want to be anywhere else.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"So, what if you did?" I ask, looking at him through the semi darkness. The light from the television flickers from the end of the bed illuminating his skin as he tries to sleep, but I need to know now that he's put the thought in my head.

"Did what, babe?" Edward mumbles, his body facing mine as we lie side by side.

"Get me pregnant." The words are so quiet I hardly hear them and I hold my breath waiting for his response.

"Dunno." His lips barely part and his eyes stay closed.

"I wouldn't expect anything," I assure him, focusing on the sheet underneath us. I don't know what he wants me to say. I don't want whatever this is to stop, but he won't be careful either. We're risking a lot by being careless and stupid. It's me that would lose everything. But still, I can't say no to him.

"Hmmm." He reaches for me sleepily but his hand stops halfway between us.

"Would you want me to get rid of it?" I ask quietly, willing my voice not to crack and break the same way my heart will if he says yes. I could never do it, even the words taste like poison in my mouth.

Edward's eyes open wide then, hurt and shock clear in their depths. "No," he states firmly. My whole body relaxes and I want nothing more than for him to hold me but I stay where I am, my eyes locked with his. What a mess. What are we even doing?

Rolling onto my back, I finally break the hold his stare has on me and lie still for a moment, focusing my breathing and trying to figure out how the conversation turned so serious, so fast. Finally sighing, I softly say, "It's fine. I'd probably tell him it was his anyway. And then hate you a little because I'd have to sleep with him," I finish with a small smile, trying to lighten the heavy mood.

Brown eyes meet green again for only a few seconds, just as his are closing, and I wonder briefly if he even heard me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"I forgot to bring my tablets. I wasn't sure I was coming over." I never am until Edward texts at the last minute, though I usually pack an overnight bag and leave it in the car just in case. But I was running late this morning.

"I have some painkillers," he offers.

"They're not painkillers. I have some of those. They're prescription," I say, removing my hair clip and searching for a band to tie my hair up with. "Thanks anyway though," I manage with a smile.

"What do you take all those for anyway? If I shook you, you'd rattle."

"Does it matter?" We weren't going to share personal details, it's part of our 'no strings' agreement; I'm already more attached than I probably should be…maybe.

"Babe, are you trying to get pregnant?" he asks, sitting up in bed and looking at me. His expression and tone aren't accusing, just curious.

Incredulity rolls through my body and settles on my face, along with surprise at the randomness of his question. "No! They're for migraines, that's all." Part of me wants to scoff; I couldn't try to get pregnant if I wanted to. Our whole arrangement—whatever it is—revolves around Edward contacting me. I come and go on his schedule, certainly not around my cycle.

"Okay." His reply is easy and holds no disbelief. He has no reason to think I'd lie, and I wouldn't.

I've been honest with him about birth control since the first night he was inside me. Since I told him I wasn't taking anything and his simple, but somewhat drunken question was: _Do you want to have my baby?_ Followed by a whispered: _I wouldn't abandon you_, after he came.

I climb over him and get into bed, resigned to the fact that I have also forgotten my hairband, and sit facing him with my legs crossed under me.

"But you know if you do end up pregnant then you've gotta stop taking all that stuff, right?"

"Huh?" I'm thrown by his comment. It's casual and relaxed, like the idea of me being pregnant wouldn't be the end of the world.

"Doesn't matter what you said, I'd be the dad," he says, his eyes meeting mine intently, telling me with that one look that he did hear me the other night when I'd said about passing a pregnancy off as my husband's. "I wouldn't want you taking all those drugs."

"That's hardly practical, is it?" I state, because really, how does he think this will end if things really do turn out the way he's speculating? My medication will be the least of my worries. Not that I'll have anyone but myself to blame. Edward looks at me, waiting for me to elaborate. "You'd be the dad?" I repeat his earlier words. "How would that work exactly?" I'm almost terrified to hear his answer but I'm too curious not to ask the question.

"We'd have to come clean, obviously."

I almost want to laugh at the simplicity of his statement. It's so easy for him. What does he have to lose? Honestly, I have no idea, because I know so little about this guy who has begun to consume my thoughts, but I'd wager that whatever it is pales in comparison to my side of the scale.

"Come clean? And then what? If I confessed to this"—I wave my hand between us—"I'd lose everything. I'd have nowhere to go. I'd have nothing." Most of this is truth. My husband would, over time, likely forgive me if I said I was sorry, but I'm not sure I'd want that. "I'd have to move back in with my dad, or worse, move back down south."

Edward rolls his eyes at me. "You'd move in here." Again he's unfazed, like this isn't the most surreal conversation of his week. Maybe it isn't. Maybe I'm the third or fourth girl he's had this exact conversation with in as many days, and with that thought my stomach begins to churn.

I pivot on my backside, stretching my legs and sliding under the duvet. "I don't think I would."

"Why not?" Now he's surprised and…confused, maybe.

"I'm going to move into the spare room while you and your girlfriend sleep in here? I don't think so." The minute the words are out of my mouth I hate myself for them. It's not his spare room; it's his daughter's room. Just because he hasn't seen her in a while doesn't mean it's not hers. I should have been more careful with my words but I am so intent on railroading him about his girlfriend that my mental filter falters.

"I'd call things off, babe. You wouldn't be in the spare room."

"So I'd move in by default? I don't think so." If I'm going to be here it's because he wants me here, not because he has no choice.

"You're not a default. Don't be like that."

How else should I be? We only ever talk in bed. Our bubble exists nowhere else. Our time exists between eleven P.M. and eight A.M. There is nothing for us outside of that window. Edward's not interested in me as a person; he's only interested in what he can get and how far he can push my boundaries. And that's okay…maybe.

It's what I signed on for in the beginning—no strings means I don't get to pick and choose, and be clingy in the process—but I don't want to be anyone's default. His live in…whatever I'd be…only because I was the mother of his baby. That's not a life for anyone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Baby, I have to go," I say, lying down on the duvet that covers him and wrapping one arm over his waist while my other hand rests on the side of his head.

"Mmmm," Edward murmurs, drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness. It's different from yesterday morning, nice. Yesterday there was nothing, just me talking while he slept and then me letting myself out as the sound of the door closing echoed loudly in the stairwell. It felt cold and detached…distant.

This feels warm as he presses his body into me. I marvel at how normal it all feels. No rushing the morning after, just me casually getting ready while he sleeps and I listen to Bach, and I try not to consider the possibility that he maybe thinks I'm someone else.

I rest my head against his shoulder, wishing I could get back into bed, knowing that if I did he'd instinctively slip his arm around me, seeking out my body heat.

For a moment I consider calling into work and excusing myself. It's my uncertainty at Edward's reaction, when he wakes up, that stops me. I don't want to see the panic—or worse, the anger—on his face when he sees I stayed longer than I should have…longer than perhaps I'm welcome. As it is, I'm already here outside of our usual time, it's later than usual; I've had an extra two hours this morning.

Edward's hand appears from under the duvet and finds mine, squeezing my fingers in the way that I love. I need to move. I need to get my bag and go to work, before I do something stupid.

"I really have to go," I whisper again.

"Kiss. Kiss," he softly demands, still sleepy, but he manages to turn his head so I can kiss him, and now I really don't want to leave. I want to spend the day kissing him. All lips and tongue and warm breath with his fingers in my hair.

"Speak to you later?" I ask as I get up. I don't know why I do, even if he says yes it's doubtful that I'll hear from him. I'm supposed to be back here tonight but something, or someone, will invariably come up and our plans will change.

"Mmmm," Edward agrees.

"Okay." A small smile pulls at my lips because I know I'm right, but I still can't help the slight disappointment in my voice as I say, "Bye," because, really, I wanted to stay.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Aren't you cold, babe?" he asks as we wait for the blowers to clear the windscreen.

"No, I'm okay," I say, trying to keep my teeth from chattering while I wait for the car to warm up. Edward reaches over and grabs my hand, linking our fingers together and pulling them back to his lap. It's these gestures that I find confusing; the hint of sweetness within the darkness of our bubble. He wants me naughty and dirty, but he muddies the water with hand holding, cuddles in bed, running his fingers absently through my hair, and forehead kisses.

The car warms infinitesimally and the glass begins to clear just under my line of vision. "That will do," I say, pulling my hand from his and throwing the car into gear. "It'll clear quicker if we start moving." If we don't leave now he will be late.

"Babe, are you forgetting that you were in an accident not that long ago?" Edward reminds me, knowing he doesn't have to. I still have nightmares about crashing cars.

"Fine," I state sulkily, but knowing he's right. Still, I drive slowly to his road end and wait before I pull out into the main flow of traffic. By the time there is an opportunity to do so, the window has cleared anyway.

We talk about a dozen little things on the way to work, nothing of great significance.

"That's my bus," he points out as we pass the bus he would normally have to catch if I hadn't stayed the night, and I'm reminded again that I may just be another convenience to him. Stopping at shops for him on the way to his house at night, driving him to work in the morning—though he's never asked me to take him to work—just seem like good reasons to keep the gullible girl around. Have I really been that naïve? Has Edward ever liked me as he said he did?

I pull up around the corner from his work and he turns to kiss me. Once. Twice. His lips are so soft. I sigh internally, wondering why my life is so different and why I can't be single or at the very least, in a relationship I can't step away from easier. But that's madness. I can't get these lips, these hands, that I crave so much to return a text message—I've had no indication that they'd be interested in anything more than what we're doing.

"I'll text you later," Edward says with another kiss.

"Okay." I know he won't.

"But I'm still knackered. So if you do come over it'll probably be a movie in bed or something."

"Sure." I shrug, because really, I don't care what we're doing, I just like spending time with him. But I won't hear from him anyway, besides, Edward would never invite me over just for a movie.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The sun's bright through the window as I lie still with my back to him. It's the second morning in a row I've woken up here, the third night I've stayed over, and I'm still unsure of the protocol. Aside from one small and brief exchange when I saw him at his work, it has been seven weeks since I've heard from Edward. No text messages, no emails and then suddenly I'm here, one night after another—this is unusual for us; Edward likes his space.

He shifts behind me and his arm settles over my waist. I settle against him and think back to our last interaction almost five weeks ago.

"_Hey," he says casually as if things are still the same._

"_Hi," I smile briefly as I pull out my earbuds, not seeing the point in being rude._

"_Have your shifts changed yet?" As Edward asks, I wonder why he wants to know, what difference it makes._

"_Not yet, it'll be about another week." Only then do I force my eyes to meet his in the hope that I'll see something there that tells me it won't be another two weeks before I hear from him again. But someone calls his name and his smile is apologetic. I don't wait; I slip back out onto the street while he's distracted, not wanting things to become awkward. I decide then that if he texts, he texts, if not then I guess things are just done._

But the time in between was good. It gave me time to reflect and really think about perspectives.

When we were together before, I allowed myself to get too wrapped up in the situation, looking for things that weren't there. But the truth was, during those seven weeks apart it wasn't Edward specifically that I missed—how could it have been? I don't know anything about who he is as a man. I craved his touch and the way he made me feel. The warmth of his breath on my skin and the feel of his body pressed against mine, that's all.

I can attribute nothing emotional or personal to him, because we never developed that sort of relationship. I had simply been trying to ease my conscience and assure myself that I wasn't cheap, or acting like a whore.

I feel Edward move again behind me and this time take the opportunity to slip out from under his arm and off the bottom of the bed. It's getting late and although I have nowhere to be today I don't know how he'll feel if I'm still here when he wakes up. I left before he woke yesterday morning too and he said nothing about that, so I can only assume that it's the right thing to do.

It doesn't take me long to get ready and once I'm dressed I perch back on the edge of his bed and run my fingertips down his arm.

"Baby, I'm leaving." I wait for Edward's response, knowing it's likely that I won't get one. He buries his head deeper into the pillow and I kiss his cheek.

"Mmmm," he almost purrs and tilts his head slightly so I can kiss him again.

"I'll speak to you later." And I hope I do—my body responds to his touch like no other—but it's okay if I don't.

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><p><strong>AN: The timeline for posting this is a little off, I'm just impatient to post. This all started for me on Dec 13th 2010. The true timeline would have this chapter picking up on April 1st 2011 and the last chapter taking place on February 8th 2011; this is where I was on those dates.** **For Edward and Bella where their seven weeks falls is almost inconsequential.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

We sit in bed eating Chinese food and watching a movie. Edward's eating one of his regular spicy dishes and I'm forking fries out of a bowl; it's too late for me to eat but he insists I have something.

"Are you sure you don't want any of this, babe?" he asks, holding up his chopsticks and offering me some of his salt and pepper chicken.

"I can't eat whatever that is, baby, you eat stuff that's too hot for my tongue."

He gives me puppy eyes and offers the chicken again. "It's not hot, I promise." His words are so sincere, like he'd never lie to me.

Opening my mouth, Edward feeds me the small piece of chicken, and he's right—it's not spicy, but it's very salty. I tell him as much right before he feeds me another piece.

I turn away from the chopsticks; there's something too familiar about him feeding me, and I try to dispel the churning in my stomach. "I don't know how you can use those so easily anyway. I always end up with cramp in my hand when I try."

He offers me the sticks and hums a soft laugh as he watches me take my time to position them. I try to lift a piece of the chicken off his plate, concentrating on not dropping it down him, and when I finally manage it I lift it to his mouth.

When my eyes meet Edward's I see he's been staring, not at my clumsy fingers but at the look of determination on my face. He smiles before his lips close around the salty chicken and he takes the chopsticks from me, positioning them again in a few seconds.

"See? It'd take far too long if I was doing it."

Less than an hour later, our plates are cleared away and his body's over mine. "Tell me what you like," he whispers against my neck in the darkness.

"You know what I like." I gasp as he moves against me, inside me, tilting his hips and pushing harder so he can get deeper.

"Tell me."

"I like the feel of you fucking me," I murmur shyly, not sure what he wants to hear. "Tell me what you like."

"I like being pressed against you like this, feeling your breasts pushed into me. Being close to you, your body heat. I like being naughty with you."

And that's just it, the biggest part that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. "You _only _like being naughty with me." Honestly, I suspect it's the main reason Edward keeps me around.

"I like being with you _any_ way." There's no hesitation, it seems natural, but I feel like I can't trust the words. Still, I feel less like a whore for him saying them, what we're doing almost feels intimate. "Tell me," he utters again.

"I like the feel of you pushing into me, and you moving over me. You kissing me, and spanking me, knowing what I like and when I want it." I also like the sound of my name when Edward whispers it in the dark as he's moving in me, when it's sweet and he sounds nearly reverent. But I'm too scared to tell him this. He's only done it twice and both times I was surprised and then terrified that if he did it again it wouldn't be my name I heard.

"You feel so good wrapped around me." Edward's lips capture mine and our tongues move together as his hips move faster. I press my fingertips into his back and as he thrusts one final time, stilling with his climax, I drag my nails over his skin the way I know he likes.

After a few minutes, he moves enough to coil his body around mine. This is one of the other things I like. He does it in his sleep too, reaches for me or moves to blanket himself over me. It's never like that at home. But despite the warmth his body provides, it's not long before I need to use the bathroom.

Shuffling out of bed and out from under his arm is never easy, he's always reluctant to release me. I know my way to Edward's bathroom even in the dark, I've been here so many times now. But it's not until I'm washing my hands that I see something new sitting on the shelf in the shower. Shampoo and conditioner for blonde hair; it's not his, it's hers.

For a moment I feel like I'm in _their_ space, not his. What felt intimate this evening, suddenly feels impersonal. I'm always so very careful never to leave anything behind—not to get caught—but this isn't just left, this is displayed, this is welcome. _She_ is welcome.

The food I ate earlier is lying heavily in my stomach, my chest aches and my eyes are starting to water.

I leave the bathroom, the little bottles behind me sitting in the dark where they belong, and pause at the door and wipe the moisture from my cheeks, unsure why I care at all. I promised myself this time there would be no attachments. No strings was going to mean exactly that. I go back to bed, knowing that for tonight, at least, I'm here and she's not.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Why are you lying so far away?" he asks, reaching back and grabbing my hand. "I'm cold." I move as Edward tugs me, pulling me so that my front is flush to his back, my arm wrapped around him and my wrist locked in his grasp, pressing against his chest.

"Better?" I murmur across his shoulder blade.

"Mmmm."

I brush my lips over his skin and listen to him breathe, his fingers playing with mine while we lie in the darkness. The time I spend here now is getting longer and longer; I've been here three nights this week and never even left on Sunday. I don't know what this means, but it's but dangerous and stupid. We're going to end up getting caught. As it is I narrowly missed an awkward introduction with his mother.

Edward's phone interrupts my random musings.

"Who the hell is that?" he mutters before he's looked.

"I image it'll be your girlfriend." I try to slip away from him to give him some space—because it feels weird to be wrapped around him if he's going to talk to her—but he won't let me go, instead he holds on tighter.

"It's two in the morning, she should be asleep," he reasons, reaching for his phone and reading the message. I focus on the tattoo running down his back, torn between wanting to reading his message too but at the same time not wanting to see how different he might be with her.

"You're still up. Maybe she's doing the same thing you are."

"If she is, I doubt she'd be texting me." Edward's tone tells me he wouldn't care if she _was_ in bed with someone else. For the next couple of minutes they text back and forth while he mumbles about the 'stupid messages' she's sending him. From his rambling I can make out: _You're up late. You working tomorrow?_

"She's got kids anyway. That's why I don't stay there."

"So…"

"Three boys under the age of five; they're a bit of a handful."

"Does she stay here often?" I can't help myself; I need to know how frequently she's in this bed.

"Not really." And as his phone sounds again I know his answer is logical.

She has small children and there's not enough space here, she'd have to leave them—that wouldn't be easy to do with any regularity. I also know that, this week, I've been here more days than I've not, so again she's shit out of luck. But a voice is nagging in the back of my head, a voice that is telling me she's here often enough to leave her things in the bathroom, while I never leave anything.

"Besides,"—his voice brings me back to the click of the keys on his phone as he writes out his message—"things haven't been going that well between us lately."

"Oh. Sorry." I don't suppose I am really. I want it to be me he's asking over later in the week, not her. "Do I get to ask why?" My voice is quiet.

"They just haven't." He's not shutting me down—I don't think—maybe he's just not sure. Either way, I see the last message he sends: _I love you too_ and I'm left wondering if he means it or if it's just an automatic response. Is he ever honest with any of the women he's with?


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Music pumps through the speakers as I sit on the sofa, and I close my eyes while Edward flicks through one song after the next, allowing only part of the track to play before he skips onto the next.

"Just let it play," I say in the brief silence.

"You know what I'm like, babe." He stands and walks over to me, running his fingertips along my arm and over my hair before disappearing into the kitchen.

He lights a cigarette and necks some of his beer while standing in the doorway. Turning the music down Edward asks, "Have you been out in the sun again?" He knows I have; the freckles over my cheeks are more pronounced. I just smile at him and let my head fall against my shoulder, reaching for his hand, which he takes without hesitating.

"I'm going away in August."

"Oh." His statement surprises me. August is a few months away yet and he doesn't usually volunteer things like this. "Where to?"

"Don't know yet. Nowhere expensive though." Edward takes another draw from his cigarette and slides his hand from mine.

I settle down into the sofa, closing my eyes and running my fingers through my hair, wishing they were his. A week without him will feel like forever; I don't want to think about what he'll get up to while he's away.

"Come with me."

My eyes open to find a somewhat serious, if not quizzical, look on his face.

"What?" I ask, sitting up.

"Come with me. Just somewhere hot, with a balcony and a pool. Nothing expensive…" he trails off.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"What about your girlfriend?"

"What about your husband?" Edward retorts, and really I should have seen it coming, but he asked me to go with him—not the other way around.

We both avoid the question. Frankly, I'm not sure he's serious; I can't usually pin him down to a weekend or get him to reply to a text message unless he wants to bend me over something.

"I already have a week booked anyway. Sure, I'll go with you." I don't want to reject him, but I don't want to put much stock in what he's asking me either. Edward's a last minute kind of guy and I'll have to give work at least two weeks' notice—and I've got no chance in the middle of the summer holidays.

"Really?"

"If you want me to come, I'll come." I smile and nod at him and I'm not sure but I think I see relief in his eyes, like he was worried I'd say no.

My courage reappears when the lights are off and we're lying in bed.

"When did you decide to ask me to go with you?"

"I've been thinking about going away for a few weeks."

I laugh at his avoidance of the question. "Okay. But when did you decide to ask me? Had you been thinking about it or did you just decide in the kitchen?"

"In the kitchen, I guess." And now I know that nothing more will come of this. It was an impulsive question, and I'm probably not the first, or last, girl he'll ask.

"And why not ask your girlfriend?"

"Just don't, okay?" Edward's tone is soft, but I know not to push him. He's already said things aren't going well between them and if that's true then why _would_ he ask her.

"Oh, I see," I tease, trying to lighten the mood. "This wouldn't be a girlfriend week away. This is a dirty week away." I manage to keep the disappointment out of my voice—just. A week in the sun, drinking and swimming—if it goes ahead—won't be bad. I shouldn't expect him to be any different then he would be here.

His eyes are closed as he chuckles under his breath. "Something like that." Edward's always so evasive, never hinting at anything. I would give anything for a glimpse inside his head, to know what he's thinking just for a little while. "Take these off," he murmurs against my skin as he tugs at my panties. "I want you again." Sex as a distraction—his ultimate weapon—works every time.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

My third glass of wine is my breaking point and as I sit on his sofa I wonder why I'm even here. We don't talk, not really, small talk doesn't count.

Edward's in the kitchen, standing having a cigarette like usual. Music is thrumming through the speakers and I need air, suddenly I can't breathe.

Grabbing my car keys, I make it out the front door and halfway down the stairwell before his voice sounds above me.

"Babe? Where are you going?"

"I'm just getting something from the car," I call back, still descending. "I'll just be a minute." I'm not though. Almost five pass and my head is no clearer.

When I get back upstairs he looks at me expectantly. I don't know if he wants to know what's going on or if he's expecting the obvious. The later wins either way.

"Let's go to bed."

"Okay." What else can I say? It's what I'm here for after all.

But as Edward undresses me, I'm really not in the mood to play his dirty games tonight. "Stop." He doesn't. I hardly blame him, I don't say it like I mean it. He pulls my top over my head and I let him. The truth is I don't know what I want. I pull away and start to gather my things together.

"What're you doing?"

"Going home."

"Babe, you're not going anywhere. Not after a bottle of wine." Edward pulls my things from my hands and drops them back to the floor, guiding me back toward the bed.

I hate being drunk, I always become some sort of emotion wreak. This comment, combined with the music track he had repeating earlier, causes tears to spring to my eyes and for one unbidden moment I want him to _want_ me to stay. Not out of guilt but because he doesn't want to see me leave.

Thoughts of nothing and everything are moving a mile a minute through my head and before I know it he's behind me, spreading my thighs and running his hand down the length of my spine. I melt under his touch as always—my treacherous body can't seem to help itself.

Two hard spanks are all it takes for me to focus, and I decide: fuck my stuff. I scramble off the bed, grab my panties and shirt from the floor and hurry to throw them on as I walk down the hallway.

"You're not leaving, you're drunk," he calls sternly.

I can hear Edward moving behind me and when I get to the sofa I know he's right. My keys are gone—hidden until morning.

"You can't keep me here." Tears start to roll down my cheeks as I push past him to the front door. He's been busy—the keys are missing from the lock. "Just let me go home."

I can't stop the sob that erupts from my chest as I slide down the door jamb, but that's all it takes to feel his arms around me and his voice in my ear.

"Babe, what's wrong? Just talk to me." My sobbing continues. "Oh, Bella...baby, what is it?" Edward's endearments only make me cry harder and even as I do I know I'm ruining everything. But I need him to stop. Babe I can handle, but him using my name and calling me baby just feels more personal, less casual.

"Just let me go home. I'll call a cab; just let me go, please. I'm not staying just because I'm drunk." I can't stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

"Bella, you're staying. I want you to stay. Come back to bed, we won't do anything, no sex, come on. We'll just go to bed."

He's not going to let me leave, I know this. I have no choice.

We get back into bed and he wraps his arms around me. "Come here." He pulls me back into his chest so tightly I think I might bruise. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Just leave it. It doesn't matter."

What's wrong? I don't even know where to start. Maybe it's the false hope of spending more time with him. Maybe it's feeling like nothing more than the dirty girl he fucks when he exhausts his other options. Maybe it's the fact that I told myself there'd be no more maybes and yet I find myself swimming in them.

It's all becoming a bit too much. I've spent more time with Edward recently and while it's been great it also means that I end up missing him when we're apart—this should not be happening.

"It does matter, just tell me," he persists.

"You never tell me anything."

"We're not talking about me. Please, just talk to me."

"Why?" My throat is hoarse from crying. "Why do you even care?"

"You know why," he whispers.

"No I don't. Tell me." My response is automatic; whatever he says will be a lie anyway.

"Because this isn't just no strings, and you know it." Edward's arms tighten and my chest quivers again. I really can't hear this.

I let him calm me as silence fills the room. We need to stop talking and start doing what it is he asks me over for. It doesn't take long to entice him, for me to blank my mind and stir his lust.

Our breathing is even, the room is dark and quiet, and my body fits perfectly into the curve of his. It's not slow or sweet, but it's not rough either; it's intense and lacks any acknowledgement that the last hour has ever even happened.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: The repeating music track was "I'm Not Calling You A Liar" by Florence + The Machine**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: The birthdays talked about in this chapter are not Edward's and Bella's. I know these should be June and September respectively, but as i mentioned back in chapter 1 this is bigger than the two of them.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

"Where did all of these come from?" I ask, staring at the stacks of CDs in front of his fireplace.

"They were in a couple of boxes in the wee one's room and mom wants the boxes so I'm sorting through them."

I lie down on the floor, bending my knees and crossing my ankles, letting them sway slowly in the air, and start to look through what Edward's unearthed from his daughter's room. "Oh, dear. I'm sort of embarrassed for you."

"You cannot say anything about my music, babe," he jibes back while running his fingers over my feet. "I know what your music sounds like, remember?"

"Leave my music alone," I huff playfully.

Edward hums a little laugh back at me and I relish it. I don't hear him laugh often. "What do you want for dinner? I'm starving." It's still early, comparatively to what I'm used to.

Our bubble is expanding. It's no longer just confined to the dark hours between eleven and eight, it's become weekends and arriving early enough to eat dinner. I'm walking a dangerous line though. My lies are becoming more complex, though easier to tell, and the more time I spend here the more I hate going home.

"I don't mind. What're you in the mood for?"

"Dunno. You pick. Chinese, Indian, Italian, Pizza…"

"You don't even like pizza."

"I'd eat good pizza," he sasses back at me.

"Let's get Italian." I decide, craving real food after eating nothing but crap at work all week. We call the restaurant and order something for collection; it'll be ready in fifteen minutes.

"We'll take this for the car," Edward says passing me a CD.

I take it from him and smile, moving my hips to the music in my head. "Sure, this one has my birthday song on it."

"Which one?"

"Track eleven."

"When is your birthday?"

"August, why?"

"Just checking we hadn't missed it. We've missed mine—it was in March." I don't say anything; his birthday fell during the seven weeks that we weren't doing whatever this is.

"Babe, how long have we been seeing each other?" he asks as he turns off the sound system.

"Um," I hesitate, thinking back. His question has taken me by surprise. You don't usually categorise casual sex hook-ups as 'seeing' someone, do you? "Just over five months." I don't add, _since it all started_, because I guess that's just semantics.

"That'd be about right. It was when we had all that snow and ice, just after your accident. You were such a tease; making me wait."

"How was I supposed to get over here? I didn't have a car," I reason, not for the first time.

"I still made it to my work," Edward teases back. "Fourteen hours on the bus just to work one hour."

"You're crazy. I just called into mine and said I wasn't coming in."

"But it's on record now, so at least if it happens again this year I won't even have to get out of bed and try," he points out.

"Right, so this year I'll come over and get snowed in with you, but last year there was just no way." Our conversation ends the same way it always does as we head down to the car and out to the restaurant.

In no time at all we've picked up our dinner and are sitting back on the sofa eating pasta and taking about nonsense.

"So come on then, what is it?" I ask again, expectantly.

"You've never even told me your last name," he scoffs, his eyes crinkling with the smile on his face.

"You know I have, so don't even try and pull that with me," I playfully scold him.

"I've got a terrible memory, babe."

"Oh, I know that," I agree, my eyes widening before I can stop them.

"What do you mean by that?" Edward asks with a quizzical smirk on his face.

"You always say things that you forgot. Things that you don't mean anyway." I know I'm baiting him a little, and even if I push him he won't remember, but I want him to think for a minute—and he does.

"Like what?" I'm sure that the small smile on my face must look sad because Edward dips his head a little. "Do you mean going away in the sun?" I shrug my shoulders noncommittally. We could start with that…among other things.

What sticks in my head though is the only night he has ever called me. I was already in bed at home alone, sleeping. I didn't know what time it was, or who was calling and when I picked up he was drunk.

"_Babe, are you coming over?"_

"_I'm in bed. Where were you?" _When I'd gone to pick him up at the bar at midnight, he'd stood me up.

"_I couldn't find you and my phone died. I had to get a cab."_ I didn't have any sympathy for him. I'd sat for almost an hour waiting, looking and feeling foolish.

"_You're drunk."_

"_I want to see you."_

"_You'll be passed out by the time I get there."_

"_Come over, I'll still be up. I promise." _More promises. _"Mmmm. Come over. I love you…"_ More bullshit, but I'd held my breath for a moment regardless, not sure if I'd heard him right.

"_Fine, but you better not be asleep or have locked me out when I get there. I'll be so pissed at you if I have to turn around and drive back here again."_

"_I'll be up and waiting, babe. Love you."_ And then I'd heard the words again.

"Come on," Edward prompts, "what else do you mean? You can't just say that and then not tell me."

I suppose he's right, but I can never tell him about the call. I know he didn't mean it, I really do, but I don't need to hear him deny it. I decide to remind him of the two occasions he's said what we're doing is more than 'no strings,' but just as I open my mouth something distracting catches his eye on the television and I'm saved until another day.

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><p><strong>AN: The album for the car is "Come Around Sundown" by Kings of Leon.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Sitting on his sofa, I'm not sure if I want to be here. Edward's girlfriend I can just about handle—with a husband of my own, I've no wiggle room on this—but the thought of him being with someone else makes me feel sick to my stomach. As I twist my hairband through my fingers I remember the text I shouldn't have read on his phone: _Wear something lacy with heels when you come over._

Everything seems the same, nothing's out of place, but still, a sense of dread lingers in the air around me as I consider the possibilities.

"Babe, what's wrong?" he asks, sitting down next to me.

"Nothing," I lie; it's not like I can tell him, is it? "Just had a bad day I guess." That's not a lie. All I've thought about is who might have been in his bed last night, what they were doing, and how he's spent his usual lazy Monday off work.

"I missed you last night," Edward says out of nowhere, and suddenly I want to cry. I want him to mean it so badly—in any context

"I text you, and called… When you didn't answer I just assumed you were with someone else." I try to keep my voice casual and light but I can feel the lump forming in my throat.

"Babe, no one else was here. I've not had sex with anyone but you in weeks and weeks," he states, getting off the sofa and walking into the kitchen. I don't know whether to believe him or not. "I fell asleep watching a movie," he explains, settling back down next to me, and as we discuss the movie he slept through my unease subsides minutely.

I tell myself that one more peek at Edward's phone will confirm his story. Lacy with Heels still needed directions here before their hook-up was a done deal, but I'll have to wait until we're in bed and he's asleep for that opportunity. In the mean time, I try not to let it distract from the feel of his hands as they find their way inside my bra.

"Let's go to bed," he whispers in my ear.

I laugh under my breath and say, "I guess we're skipping the movie tonight."

"Yeah, I want you naked, now."

I gasp as his fingers tease my nipples and the piercings he likes so much. Edward continues whispering dirty things, telling me to get into bed and touch myself while he has a cigarette. He sends me off to his bedroom with a slap to my ass but as I walk down the hall I feel the doubt creep back in again.

I can't get into his bed. The sheets have been changed since I was last here, but were they changed for her, or changed for me coming back? My mind spins and I know I shouldn't have come over; it's too soon since the last one left.

_If anyone was here at all._

The benefit of the doubt nags in the back of my mind and I quickly try to weigh my options. But I'm not quick enough.

"Babe?" Edward lingers in the doorway for a moment before coming to stand in front of me and dropping to his knees, pushing himself between my bare thighs and kissing me.

I turn my head and he kisses down my throat, sucking at the skin under my jaw. "Coming over was a mistake. I should go home." I murmur, but I make no attempt to leave; I can't, he's got me wedged against the bed.

"Okay." I wasn't expecting him to agree, but he doesn't move to let me leave either. "Why?" His hands slowly brush up my thighs and rest on my waist.

"Because I don't know what I'm doing here," I say honestly, because I really don't, not anymore. Is it something more? He's said it is but it's obviously not, not if he's texting other women.

"We're having fun, aren't we?" And there it is; the first time in weeks he's said anything that's felt honest. There's no bullshit sentiment in his statement. No suggestion of anything more involved. No false hope. No…maybe.

Edward's hands slide around the back of my neck and into my hair and his eyes flit to my mouth. I kiss him back with the same hunger when his lips meet mine, and I give in to what we both want.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Edward opens the door and smiles as he steps aside, letting me walk past, and I head straight for the kitchen.

"What do you have there?"

"I got you something." I place the bag carefully on the counter and lift the chilli plant out. I know nothing about plants but I think I picked a good one. There are some lush red ones and some green ones that aren't quite ready yet.

"Babe," he says, his tone softly amazed, "you didn't?"

"I know you love chillies, and I remembered you said your bonsai is dead…" I trail off, watching as he fingers the small spicy fruit. Edward always talks about having extra chillies in take-away or adding them to something he's cooked. "Anyway, this'll sit nicely on your window sill," I ramble on. I stop as he turns to face me and I suddenly wonder if I shouldn't have, if I've over stepped some unknown boundary or something. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have—"

He cuts me off with a kiss, running his other hand up my arm and giving it a squeeze. His eyes meet mine once he pulls away and he shakes his head minutely. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, babe."

I smile and shift my eyes from his—the green there burning too intensely for me to hold it any longer. I doubt the truth of what Edward's said, but consider the sentiment. Somewhere down the line someone must have done something sweet—even if it was only his mother—but maybe he's thinking back over the girlfriend's he's had, and if that's the case then I've got my work cut out for me. No wonder his defences are up all of the time and he's reluctant to let me in.

"Seriously, thank you," he says with another kiss.

"I wasn't sure if it would be okay."

Edward smiles again, moving away to light a cigarette, and he tells me about his day. I listen quietly, standing behind him with my arms wrapped around his waist, enjoying the feel of his fingertips brushing along my arm.

"I can't believe you got me a chilli plant," he murmurs as we head to bed.

"I'm starting to feel bad," I say, feeling more embarrassed than anything else. "I shouldn't have bought it; it was a silly idea."

"No it wasn't," he insists. "But no one…not ever before," he repeats, and I give his hand a squeeze.

"You're welcome."

I wake in the night needing to use the bathroom and once I'm done I make my way toward the kitchen for a glass of water. A shadow cast across the floor in the living room catches my attention and as I adjust my eyes in the dim light I find that Edward has already put the chilli plant on the window sill. I didn't even see him do it. The chillies are where they belong. He hasn't just left them in the kitchen until another day; he's moved the plant and placed it where it's going to grow and be nurtured best.

A smile begins to creep across my face and I decide to forego the water. I want to get back to bed and back to him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

I can feel Edward moving behind me through my sleepy haze, lining his body up to mine while his hands roam around to my breasts. I push my backside into him, teasing him as I stretch and arch my back, and I hear his low chuckle next to my ear. "I know what you're doing," he whispers, pulling at my panties and tugging them lower down my thighs.

"What time is it?" I ask, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"It's still early. There's time to go back to sleep after."

I groan, because it really must be early if Edward's saying that. With my panties off and my vest pushed up to my neck, there's no preamble or foreplay, he just pushes himself inside me in one swift motion and I still can't believe how good it feels.

I've never particularly enjoyed sex, but I can't seem to get enough of it with this man.

"God, you always feel so good." He pulls my legs up against his chest and leans down over me, changing the angle and reaching deeper.

I can't think clearly; it's too early in the morning and if Edward keeps this pace up he's going to have to stop—this is too deep without a warm up first. As good as it feels, I may combust. Just when I think I can't take any more, he thrusts his hips hard one final time so they're flush with my ass and he grips my thighs as he climaxes.

"Mmmm," he murmurs, releasing my legs and lowering them back to the bed. "I needed that."

I laugh at his boyish grin. "I can't believe you woke me up." I mock pout as he reaches for the clock. "What time is it anyway?"

"Six-thirty." I roll back onto my side with a huff and Edward curls in behind me, wrapping his arms around me and twisting his legs through mine. "Go back to sleep, baby."

"Mmmm," I agree, closing my eyes.

"Bella, you've gotta get up. Something's wrong with my daughter."

"What?" I ask, suddenly awake and seeing that it's already a quarter to eight.

"I've got a text and a missed call from my ex. Some bullshit telling me nothing. They know that phone's basically an alarm clock," I hear Edward talking to himself as he walks out of the bedroom. He has two phones: his personal one and his work one. His ex has obviously used the work one. As I head to the bathroom, I feel like I want to give her a hard shake—I've only been around for five months and even I know the difference.

I'm not in there long, but by the time I get out of the bathroom, he's pacing with his coffee mug in one hand and his phone in the other.

"What did the message say?"

" 'This is Kaley's dad"—I don't question the fact that someone else is calling themselves her father, nor do I question the fact that it's not his ex doing the texting—"call us, it's important.' "

"Have you tried to call them?"

"I need to get into work first. No one else has keys to open up. I'd rather ring them when I get there and know that work is sorted rather than having that shit storm to deal with too."

"Okay. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah."

Edward's quiet in the car as I drive him. "Don't think the worst, okay. If it was serious there'd be more than one text and one missed call, right?"

"Kaley was really ill last year, she was in the hospital. I got one text, once she was back home again, to say she was okay."

God, his ex is a piece of work, no wonder he doesn't trust women. Maybe if she hadn't done such a number on him in the first place he'd open up to me a little more and be more honest.

"I'm sorry, that's awful."

"I'll probably end up having to go down there as it is."

"What do you mean?"

"She did a bunk. My ex took Kaley out of state. I told you that, babe."

I gasp as Edward tells me, because this is the first time I've heard it. "You didn't."

"Well she did. That was why she was avoiding me trying to contact them." I seriously hate this woman. What kind of a person deliberately keeps a man away from his daughter? Admittedly, I don't know their full situation but from what I do know of him, there's no real reason to keep him from Kaley.

"Oh," I manage. I can't say anything else, I'm too angry and that's not what he needs right now. Instead I say, "You know I'm off all day. If you need a lift home or to the station or the airport just call or text me, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks, babe."

When we get to his work Edward kisses me as always and tells me he'll let me know what's happening in about an hour or so. I'm on tender hooks for him while I wait; I hope it's not terrible news. Just over an hour later I get a text message letting me know that he's heading home. It seems that Kaley is fine, at least not sick. She's at her grandmother's having been taken off his ex, and now he has to attend an emergency social worker meeting.

I want to ask how has all of this happened without anyone telling him? His daughter has been living less than thirty minutes away, for God knows how long, and he didn't even know about it. All this time he thought she was ten hours away and untouchable. I text him back and tell him that I hope his meeting goes okay. I know he's missed her, he loves her to pieces.

A part of me wonders what all of this will mean though. Does Edward want her to live with him—he has the space and Kaley's room is ready—or has he always wanted her to just be closer so he can have access, but not have the responsibility of being a full time dad.

Either way, one thing I'm sure of is this will change everything.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

My phone rings and as soon as I see the caller display I eagerly answer it. "Hey, how'd it go?"

"I'm getting my baby back."

"Really? Honey, that's so great. I'm so pleased." And I truly am. "When?"

"I still need to sort out some details, but it'll be soon."

I can hear Edward's smile and I sigh with relief down the phone. I've been so worried all day, and I hope the migraine that's been plaguing me will start to dissipate. "Can I come over?" I know he's exhausted, but I need to see him.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes," I almost sob—tears of joy and relief and for the unknown that lies ahead. I need to make every last moment with him count before it's too late. "Only if it's okay," I hasten to add, because as much as I want to see him I don't want him to feel obligated.

"Yeah, if you want to." It's not perfect but I'll take it.

"I'll see you in thirty minutes."

"Okay."

When I get there the television is on as background noise and he's standing in the kitchen having a cigarette. I kiss him on the neck and run my hand over his chest before settling onto the couch. Edward's unexpectedly quiet and the atmosphere seems tense, almost electric. I close my eyes and will the last of my headache to leave now that I'm here and able to see that he's all right with my own eyes, trying to focus on my breathing instead of the steady thump of blood through my temple.

It takes me a moment to realise that he's standing by my side and has spoken. "What, baby?"

"I'm going to go to jail."

"What?" My voice fills with panic and the rushing in my head gets louder as I sit up too fast. Once I turn to look at him properly I see that he's holding his martial arts training swords.

"That fucker hit my daughter," Edward states in an eerily calm tone, though his expression is anything but.

"He did what?" I ask, reaching to take the weapons from him.

He takes a step back, holding the blades down the length of his body. "My ex's boyfriend hit my angel. She's four years old, and he hit her." His voice quivers a little as he speaks.

I'm suddenly very glad I came over; he definitely shouldn't be by himself. Edward's gripping the handles so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. He's furious, and rightly so. "Why? What happened?" Not that there's any good reason to hit a child, I just hope that by getting him to talk he'll maybe calm down a little.

"I don't know all the details. All I know is that he hit Kaley and then her granddad dragged him away and beat the living shit out of him. It should have been me; I should have been the one to protect her. I promised to keep her safe."

"This isn't your fault." Of course he would blame himself. "You didn't even know where she was, baby." I reach for Edward's hand this time but he side steps me.

"He'd better hope he doesn't show up at my door, but _I_ hope he does. I'll fucking kill him."

"I know you're angry, but you need to calm down. You just got her back; you can't do anything that'll take her away again."

"I won't. If he comes in here it's self-defence."

"I don't think that argument will work, baby." I walk over to Edward and wrap my hands around each of his and try to take the swords off him, but he won't release them. "Let them go." I give them a small tug and my hands slip along his, closer to the edges of the blades. "Please let them go, before I cut myself," I whisper, pleading with him. His eyes meet mine and soften for a moment. "Please?" He allows me to take them and I put them away, out of sight.

When I come back out of his bedroom he's in the kitchen having another cigarette. "Tell me about Kaley. What did you do today?"

Edward tells me that they went to the park and she rode her bike. His answers are brief but I can see a hint of a smile trying to break the surface before the darkness returns. "I hope my door goes, I really do."

Standing behind him, I wrap my arms around his waist and press my palms flat to his chest. "Tell me about your day, baby. Did you take any pictures?" I try and get him to focus on his daughter and the fun he had with her today.

"No, I didn't get any pictures," he says wistfully, placing his hand over mine.

"It's late, let's go to bed," I murmur against his neck. He needs to try and relax, maybe sleep will help.

When we get into bed Edward draws me close, interlocking his fingers with mine and pressing his face into my neck as he lies right behind me. "I can't believe I'm getting her back."

"Believe it, baby. She's coming home and she'll be here so soon," I say, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. I _am_ happy for him, he deserves to be happy and he deserves to have his daughter back, but I can't help the tear that slides down the side of my cheek and onto the pillow as I close my eyes.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"I can't believe that she'll be here soon," Edward says looking around his apartment. I smile as he stares at the space imagining what it'll be like. "All her toys over the floor and sticky little hand prints over everything."

I laugh at him and he smiles back at me, his eyes crinkling and shining with excitement. "Just give it a couple of months," I say, remembering four months ago he was talking about painting over the tiny hand prints in his bedroom, though in retrospect that could have been more about painful memories than annoyance.

"No, I'm serious. She can draw over the walls for all I care." Edward finishes his cigarette and comes to sit with me on the sofa, pulling me into his side. We sit watching television, my head against his chest and his arm around my shoulders while his fingers lazily stroke my arm.

I wake up alone on the sofa, the room quite and the only light coming from the screen of the T.V. Pushing my hair out of my face, I walk through the apartment looking for him. It doesn't take me long to find him leaning against the wall in Kaley's room. Edward's oblivious as I watch from the doorway, his face illuminated from the twinkle star lights hanging on the wall.

I take a moment to really look at him, to burn as much of him as I can into my memory; his lean body, his sinewy forearms crossed over his chest, his full bottom lip, his pinched brow, the rarely seen scruff along his jaw, his damp eyelashes… "Baby?" I take a hesitant step forward. "Are you okay?"

Edward looks at me and his usual strong exterior falters. "I didn't protect her." His voice sounds hollow and distant, and my heart breaks as the tear rolls down his cheek. I go to him without a second thought, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms follow suit and I feel them press hard against my ribs as his hands claw at my back.

"Shhh," I soothe. "None of this is your fault." Although I whisper, my voice almost seems to echo. He says nothing and I can hear from his breathing that he's giving in to his emotions. He's letting me in but I hate seeing him like this. I hold him tighter, smoothing my hands over his neck and trying to provide him with a little comfort.

When Edward's arms start to go limp I pull away, taking his hands in mine. "Come on, let's get ready for bed." I don't know how long he's been standing in here, but he needs to stop punishing himself. I'm the last one out and I turn off the lights as I leave; with any luck the next time he spends any time in here Kaley will be here too.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20  
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"If they turn up at the door then you're staying out of sight," Edward states matter-of-factly, taking about his ex and her boyfriend. I look at him with my eyebrow raised. Surely he knows me better than that. "I mean it. I don't want you involved."

"You've made that abundantly clear," I snip back like a petulant child.

"Don't be like that. It's not that I don't want you to be here. I'm not ashamed of you. I just don't want you to be involved in the ugly stuff, okay? Besides you're married, babe. How would that look? They could use that against me." I know he's right, I'm not stupid; I just wish he would stop throwing it at me.

"Fine," I all but yell at him. "I'll stay where ever I'm told to stay," I finish, getting up off the sofa and escaping to the bathroom where I can pace and give myself a time out. I'm in there almost ten minutes before Edward knocks on the door. "What?" My voice is softer now.

The door opens slowly and he walks toward me. "Come sit back outside. I need to pee." I get up without a word and give him his privacy. It's not long before he's standing behind me trying to make me see his side again. "You have to understand, babe. She's everything to me, and he hit her. I won't let him get away with it."

"Of course I understand; I'm not a monster." The truth is, as long as Edward doesn't get caught, or get in any trouble, I'm all for him beating the boyfriend to a pulp. There's a special place in hell for people who beat on kids.

"I never said you were. I just don't want you messed up in this part, that's all."

"If they come to the door and I'm here, even if I'm in the other room, I'm still involved. If the police came I'd still be questioned."

"If they saw you here, they could use the fact that I'm seeing someone against me, I don't want anything to hurt my chances of keeping Kaley."

"I'd never do anything to jeopardise you keeping your daughter."

"I know that, babe," he says softly.

"But that's not all you said."

"What else?"

"I just wish you'd stop throwing the fact that I'm married back in my face. You have a girlfriend but I _never_ throw that at you." Again I want to remind Edward that our whole arrangement—or whatever this has become—started because he wasn't looking for anything to tie him down and that she only appeared when he found out I was married, and that if he would just talk to me about what he wants things might have a way of becoming so much simpler.

But I don't.

"I don't have a girlfriend. Not any more. I haven't for about a week." Edward looks me in the eyes as he tells me and I'm stunned into silence. A week? He hasn't said a word. "I broke it off, told her we were done. In hindsight I'm not even sure we were ever together; I haven't seen her in about two months. The only girl in my life, aside from you, is my daughter—and she's everything to me." I nod dumbly at him, still not sure how to respond.

"She still texts me though, I'm not going to lie to you." I want to ask him if he texts her back, but he's already said he's not going to lie and I'm not sure I want to know. I automatically nod again. Something in the last week _has_ been different; Edward's texting when he says he will, he's keeping more of his promises and disappointing me a little less. He's started to let me in and make me feel like a part of his life here, even if it has only been a little bit.

Still, I can't help but think that this will be my last weekend here.

I'm a realist. I want him to have his daughter back, of course I do, I'm not selfish. But I also know that with her return comes my departure. Surely he can't have us both.

"I want you here, babe. You said yourself we've been doing this for almost six months, it's not like it's a whim. We just have to be careful."

"I know," I say, turning my head so Edward can't see the tears forming in my eyes. It's silly to miss him already, but I do.

"We can still get together on weekends—she's got two sets of grandparents—it just won't be every weekend. We can still go out and do things, have picnics and go places." And now I know that it's over; we've _never_ done these things. The only way we'd be doing these things going forward is as a group of three, and it's not likely that Edward's _ever_ going to introduce me to his daughter. "But I just can't have a strange woman in Kaley's life if you're not going to be around in a couple of months."

"Are you getting rid of me like?" I ask with the hint of a smile, trying to lighten the mood a little, and I'm pleased that I manage to hide the panic I'm feeling.

"No, babe, not at all." His voice is sincere as his eyes meet mine. "But you don't have to be here, I'd understand you wanting to go. It's a lot to deal with."

I want to laugh at the absurdity of his words. There is no where else I would rather be, even with the potential of his crazy ex and her abusing boyfriend, or his own consuming rage. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay."

I take a breath and close my eyes. If I want Edward to trust me, I need to start trusting him. I don't want to come before his daughter; it should never be that way. He needs to find his feet with her again and I need to give him time to do that, to let them settle back into being with each other. I'm overreacting. He's only asking that we be careful. He's only asking for time. I can give him that.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

The sound of Edward's phone ringing wakes me, but I keep my eyes closed and my breathing steady while he talks to his daughter. He sounds so happy, and while I can't hear what she's saying the tone of her voice tells me she loves getting to talk to her daddy again. When the call ends I feel the mattress dip as he moves toward me and I smile in anticipation.

"You need to wake up, babe," he says as he rubs my arm. "My mom'll be here in about thirty minutes with buckets and mops."

I roll onto my stomach and prop myself up on my elbows, looking at the clock; it's after twelve already, his mom could have been here over an hour ago.

"You really have to get out of this bed." Edward smiles mischievously at me, snaking his arm across my back and hooking his thumb into my panties. "If you don't, I'm going to attack you."

"Oh, do you think so?" I ask with a giggle, squirming while he tugs at the elastic around my waist.

I love this playful side of him. It's been two days since he found out that he's getting his daughter back—full custody—but he's been having a hard time coming to terms with some of the information gathered about his ex and her current boyfriend. As far as Edward knows, the boyfriend probably hit Kaley more than once, and he's obviously furious. She's not my daughter and even I'm angry.

"Oh, I know so," he teases back.

I roll out from under his hands and move so that my back is on the bed, but he doesn't hesitate in following me and letting the length of his body press along my side.

"Stop it, we need to get up. Your mother will be here soon; be good."

"Then we'd better be quick," he whispers into my ear as his hand tugs at my panties again.

"I mean it; your mother is coming."

"So will I be soon," Edward quips back and I roll my eyes at him.

"I'm getting up."

"I'll just rip them off you." His grin is infectious and as I sit up he manoeuvres himself between my legs and starts to drag my panties off me.

I laugh at his persistence and fall back onto the pillows, allowing him to remove them completely. "Your mom's got keys. She's going to find us in here." It's an empty threat and Edward knows it; his keys are still in the back of the door.

"No she's not. I'll make it quick, promise." We're hands and mouths, skin and nails, but he's true to his word. No one's getting caught today.

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><p><strong>AN: This is from the morning of June 6th; Edward got Kaley back on June 7th**...**now we wait. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

As I walk in, I can't help but smile to myself. Kaley's toys are stacked around the edge of the sitting room; dolls, books, a plastic guitar, a box of beads, a little compact of make-up. Evidence of her is everywhere, just like Edward said it would be.

"How've you been?" he asks as I sit on the sofa.

"I've been okay." I'm lying; it's been ten days since I spoke to him last, spoke to him properly anyway, and it's felt like I've been crawling in my own skin. "How about you?"

"I'm so knackered," he states with the hint of a smile. "It's only been a week and I'm so tired."

"It's closer to two, and it'll take some getting used to again, baby."

"Yeah, I guess."

I get up and walk through to the kitchen where Edward's standing smoking a cigarette. I move behind him and rest my hands on his hips. "Tell me what you guys have been up to."

He tells me they've been to the park and swimming most days. I find out the last two days have been especially busy. Today was induction day at school; Kaley starts in eight weeks, but he's still going to struggle between now and then. She's not got a place at a nursery school; everywhere he's looked is full.

"My offer is still there, you know," I reiterate a text from earlier in the week. My shifts are pretty flexible. I could help him out some mornings and on my days off I could watch Kaley.

"I know, babe, but I can't give my ex any excuses. She had guys in and out of Kaley's life all the time. I don't want her to turn around and say I'm just as bad."

"I don't need to be anyone, we don't need to know each other. I'd just be the babysitter. It's not like I _am _anyone anyway, is it?" I probe, hip checking him for emphasis.

"That's not true, don't be like that," Edward implores.

"Isn't it?" I ask quietly. "You've made it pretty clear before that this is just fun."

"Things are different now." Yes they are. I fight the urge to roll my eyes and decide I don't want to hear where he's probably taking this. His daughter is his priority right now—my helping or not helping is his decision, he knows the offer is there.

Edward also tells me that yesterday was pretty grueling. It was his first official court date for custody. Everything went his way, which is good, but he was warned that his ex may still try and abduct Kaley. If she does he can file criminal charges but that doesn't necessarily get him his daughter back.

As he talks I run my hands up and over his back, down his arms, and across his chest, touching as much of him as I can, hoping that it's soothing his anxiety just a little bit.

"Do you have any more pictures?" I ask when he's finished, my lips brushing against the back of his neck.

He chuckles under his breath. "Yeah, I have to take one every night when she gets into bed." Edward picks up his phone and shows me photos of Kaley sleeping and a couple of her in a fancy dress outfit before she went to her grandmother's this weekend.

"She looks so cute."

"She's my angel."

We stand quietly for a few minutes and I decide now's as good a time as any to tell him what I've been thinking about for the last two weeks.

"I started apartment hunting today."

"Why?"

"Because I'm moving out." Edward looks at me blankly, as if he's trying to figure out what it all means. "I'm leaving him."

"Oh," he finally manages. "Not because of me?" he asks.

Yes, I want to answer, but I don't. The truth is, it is because of him in a larger sense. If this had never started I might never have known I was unhappy. Without him I'd still be living _that_ life, never having tasted this one.

"No, not because of you." It's the easier answer, if not the honest one. Edward wouldn't hear all of the truth anyway; he'd only listen to what he'd want to focus on.

"Okay...It's just I have to think of Kaley and what's happening there first. I can't commit to anything else right now."

"I know." My voice is quiet, my tone is soft, and although I know I can expect nothing more, my heart is still broken.

My friend Rose, to whom I have purged my soul about this whole mess, is right; I'm probably in love with him and I can't stop falling.

Either way, I need to do what is right for me. I cannot stay in a marriage that is making me miserable just because my lover doesn't feel for me the same way I feel for him.

Feeling vulnerable, I make my way to the sofa and curl up into a ball. It's not long before my breathing starts to even out and I feel sleepy.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: This is a continuation from Chapter 22; it's all from the same night, it just fit better over two chapters.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 23<strong>

Warm breath on my skin, a hand running down my thigh, moist lips on my cheek; it's all hazy as I try and open my eyes, but I still feel it. "Baby, let's go to bed."

"Hmmm."

The room goes dark and I can feel my body being moved. First my legs off the sofa, then my arm being tugged by Edward's hand in mine. "Come on, baby," he almost whispers.

When we get into his bedroom I ask him where my pajamas are. Despite the fact that I'm usually so careful to take everything home, I left them here last time.

"They're in the lost and found box," he says with a laugh. His running joke whenever I tease or quiz him about other girls he has here and the collection of things they must leave behind.

"You're not funny," I state, swiping at him with the vest I'm about to put on.

Edward's hands are quicker than mine though and he grabs it. "Leave it off."

"Not a chance." I give it a yank, turning on my heel and smirking at him as I head for the bathroom.

When I get back out the lights are off and as I climb over him to get into bed his hands start to roam over my body.

"God, you're so impatient." I laugh as his hands slide under my panties.

"I wanna feel your ass."

"It feels the same as the last time I was here." I reach for my phone to set an alarm and as I do he starts to tug my underwear off. "Wait a second." He doesn't and I laugh, rolling out of the way.

"They're coming off," Edward says, trying again. I roll onto my front this time but he's not deterred. I finish with my alarm and just as I put it away he's got my panties down to my ankles.

But I don't want this to be quick and neither, it seems, does he, as I move onto my side and he presses his body in behind me. "I missed you," I say with a sigh, his hands reaching round to tease me where he knows I like.

"I missed you too." I hear the words but I don't know if he means them or if he says them because he thinks they're expected.

Pulling on my shoulder, Edward rolls me so that I'm lying under him. I can't see his face in the darkness but as he kisses me it feels different to usual. We take our time, mouths and tongues, lips and breathing, our bodies moving slowly; an easy teasing friction, then his hands on my face, mine on his neck and the back of his head. So much kissing, both becoming desperate, almost frantic, like there's not enough, never enough, needing more until his body wants every inch of my own.

He presses into me, his mouth still on mine, and my breath catches; it's felt too long. It's slow and gentle, his whole body presses against mine while I wrap my legs around his hips.

After almost two weeks of being without, I was expecting Edward to be in one of his dirty playful moods tonight, but this is new. He shifts his hips and the angle changes. My back arches, and as our kissing stops he lowers his mouth to tease my nipple. My senses are overloading; it's never been like this between us before. It's intense and personal, more connected than usual. I can feel my nails digging into his back but can't stop myself from scratching down his spine while his thrusts continue.

We both want more, this isn't enough.

Edward moves, twisting me so that my back is to him and he grabs my hips, pulling them toward him, and I know now that we're both about to get what we want; deeper and harder. I can't suppress the moan that builds in my throat as he pushes into me all the way. His fingers dig into my flesh and I relish the feel of him moving quickly behind me. He feels so good this way, though I miss the taste of his mouth as his breath fans over my back.

When we are both sated and can take no more, we collapse onto the pillows and pull the duvet up around us. I kiss him and he kisses me back for several minutes, his hand running over my body while I lie on my front and he curls around me on his side.

When we stop for a breath, I decide to take a chance and ask something I'm not sure I can handle the answer to after the last hour. "Can I ask you something serious for a minute?"

"Sure," Edward says, half asleep.

"What is this?" I know I've asked this before, but I _want_ to know now. "I mean really. Is it just a bit of fun or is there potential for something more?"

"Babe, I have Kaley—"

"I know that. I'm not looking for a one or two year plan. I get that Kaley's your priority and she comes first." I hesitate for a second before I continue. "I just want to know if there's a possibility that I might come anywhere at all."

"Of course it's possible, babe," he says, running his fingertips up and down my back.

"Okay," I murmur. I don't like the silence that lingers between us so I say, "Do you want to hear about the awful day of apartment hunting I had?"

Edward chuckles lightly and says yes.

"I met up with the realtor and she had the wrong keys with her so instead of missing out she coaxed me to follow her across town to view the apartment she did have keys for."

"And?"

"And I ended up across the street," I finish, burying my head in Edward's bicep. His laughter is the last thing I expect to hear.

"What was it like?" he asks.

"It was so great. Gorgeous high ceilings, spacious, newly remodeled bathroom, and the kitchen comes with all the appliances."

"Are you going to take it?"

I scoff at him as he asks me. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's across the street!" And I go crazy enough thirty minutes away without being able to see who's coming and going at all hours. I try and imagine for a minute how things might be different if I did live _that_ close. Would he answer his texts more or less often? Would I be able to simply pop over? Would it still be after eleven P.M. when I heard from him most of the time? Would he be more inclined to let me into his life?

"Don't let that stop you. If you like it, you should take it. My being here shouldn't affect that." I don't know how to take what Edward says, or what he means by it. If I really think about it I could probably live right across the street without him even realizing it; in the grand scheme of his day I guess I'm still pretty insignificant. This thought hurts my chest and although I don't doubt its truth, I don't want to dwell on it.

"It's after two," I say, looking at the clock. "We should try and sleep." Neither one of us has slept well in the last week. Edward because he's worried his ex will turn up at his door and try to get inside. Me because I've been worried about him and I've not had a clue about what's been going on; he's awful at returning messages.

"Mmmm," he murmurs over my shoulder, and as I turn my body into his, he puts his arm around me and pulls me closer.

I twist my head one last time and whisper, "Kiss me goodnight." I see Edward's faint smile just before he kisses me and I'm pretty sure we'll both sleep okay tonight.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This took place on Thursday 16th; something happened on Friday 17th... I got a text saying that Edward was waiting to hear from his lawyer. Was everything okay? Kinda. That's as much as I know. Like I say, he's awful at returning messages.**

**I hardly slept this weekend with worry, and in hindsight I wonder now that if it didn't all feel different because this was some sort of goodbye. I guess only time will tell...again.  
><strong>


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I'm late posting this; June 25th.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

He opens the door and pulls me inside with a smile. I know I'm not staying tonight but I'm so pleased to see him. Still holding my hand Edward leads me through his apartment toward Kaley's bedroom and quietly pushes open her door.

The twinkle star lights are on and casting a soft, light pink glow across the room. Kaley's asleep and she looks perfect, her blonde hair framing her face. "She's adorable," I whisper with the slightest of breaths.

"She's my angel."

Kaley's eyes flicker and I hide behind him, my hand still in his, but she doesn't stir. I decide that I'm tempting fate enough by being here while she's in the house so I turn and tiptoe back out into the hallway; he's not long in following me and we both head to the kitchen.

"How's the apartment hunting going?" he asks once his cigarette is lit.

I shrug my shoulders and wonder what to tell him, and then I remember Rose's words from earlier in the week: _It sounds like he's giving you more than you're giving him. Why don't you try being honest with him and he might give you more of his feelings back._

"I found the one I want."

"And?" Edward prompts. "Where is it?"

"I'm not taking it."

"Why not?"

"It's the one across the street."

"Babe, if that's the one you want then you should take it." I half-snort, half-laugh as he speaks. "I'm serious. It's selfish but I'd love you to be that close."

"I don't think I could."

"Why not?"

"It's too close. I'd go crazy." I take a deep breath and turn my head away so he can't see the moisture in my eyes. "I've not heard from you in nearly a week."

"I know, but you don't know what's been going on here." And that's exactly my point, he doesn't tell me anything. Knowing he was across the road and still so silent would be like a knife in my chest. "I've had shit with my ex to deal with and Kaley had to spend time with her mom too; it's been a tough week." Edward sounds exhausted and frustrated but he doesn't raise his voice, he's not angry at me, he's simply explaining.

"I'm not trying to make demands on you. I know it's hard for you and you're trying to deal with things as they come up, but the last time we spoke you were dealing with your lawyer. You didn't say what about, just that things were kinda okay; I was worried, that's all," I say, hoping that my confession isn't too much, that he doesn't think I'm pushing. "I'm allowed to care a little bit," I finish in a softer, barely audible voice.

"Of course you are. I care about you too. If it wasn't for all the shit in the last two weeks, if I didn't have Kaley, I'd say just move in here. I just can't be in a position where my ex can say that I'm having other girls in and out of Kaley's life, that's all."

I smile to try and lighten the tone but can't stop myself from asking, "Why, is there more than one girl to introduce her to like?"

"I can't believe you even asked that," Edward says, and when he does I feel bad for even thinking it because he looks hurt and a little dejected. For the first time, I wonder if I really am the only person he has over to his apartment, if the others he texts are just that—texts of flirtatious, harmless fun. But I don't ask him, I just keep my mouth shut.

"I'm serious. I'd say 'fuck it' and you'd move in here. Fuck the apartment across the road." His voice is resolute, his tone stern as if that's exactly how it would be.

I chuckle and cast him a glance out the corner of my eye. "No you wouldn't. You've told me before you couldn't live with anyone again, that you've lived alone for too long."

"Babe, it'd be hard—it'd take some adjusting—but I'm serious, if things were different right now you could move in here."

I laugh, almost scoff, and look at him with my eyebrows raised. "It's easy for you to say that because they're _not_ different. God, your memory really is awful." Over the last six months we've had hypothetical discussions about this more than once, and Edward goes around and around in circles changing his mind—I could move in, he couldn't live with anyone else and then back to this again.

"I remember pretty much everything I've ever said to you." He looks at me pointedly as he speaks, and I'm tempted to call his bluff, wondering what specifically he's dangling in front of me.

"Oh, really?" I tease.

"Yeah," he states, taking a step toward me. "The only thing we never discuss is how we feel."

My tongue gets tied in my mouth and the only thing I can say is, "You've made it clear before that this is just a bit of fun for you." But I can't bring myself to look at him as the familiar lump forms in my throat.

"It was in the beginning, but it's not now; you have to know that." Edward's face hides nothing; he seems so honest, like he means every word.

"I guess," is all I can utter. "Anyway," I say, trying to get us back on track, "this has always been hard." There always seems to be one thing or another cropping up.

"Well, you're married, babe," he reminds me with a small smile.

"Stop saying that," I whisper, chewing the inside of my lip.

"If I wasn't here would you still be looking at apartments?"

I don't say anything for what seems like the longest time, and he reaches for me, running his palm over my stomach and tugging at my waist. "If you weren't here I'd still be miserable. I'm not happy; I can't stay married either way."

"I just don't want you to hate me if it doesn't work out."

"I wouldn't hate you."

"You would."

"Why would I?"

"Because I can't promise you anything. If I have to choose between Kaley and having no one or choosing you, then it's her every time." I know Edward means it but there's sadness in his voice, and I wonder if he knows that it's okay for him to have someone too. That he can still be there for her without having to give up everything. That maybe having someone good in his life would be good for Kaley too.

Even if that someone isn't me.

"Of course it is. I'm not trying to compete with your daughter."

"I know you're not, but I'm a guy with baggage; I'm just surprised you're still here."

"Why wouldn't I be?" It's not like I didn't know he had a daughter from the beginning. The geography has changed a little and his commitments have adjusted but maybe some way down the line, if Edward keeps me around, we could all work something out. Maybe they can find a little space for me somewhere in their lives.

"I don't know," he says with a sigh. "I get that this is hard for you."

"Do you?" I ask gently. "I felt so guilty texting you tonight."

"Don't. I've missed not having you here. It would be so much easier for me just to cut all contact with you, but you mean the world to me."

I have to bite my tongue so I don't tell him more than I'm ready to, and I immediately feel like I've cheated him out of something. "But you never text me, I always run after you," I state, trying to keep my tone somewhere between teasing and nonchalance, but even I can hear the disappointment there.

"Babe, it's just been a bad week," Edward reassures me, squeezing my fingers. "I just need to get past the court dates. Once they're out of the way and my ex can't throw anything at me then maybe we can see about going out and doing things—picnics and the park and stuff."

The irony isn't lost on me that we are _both_ basing a lot on maybes now.

"Seriously though, if you like the apartment across the street take it. You being that close would be great. But you have to take it for you; it can't just be because of me." I want to ask which aspect of having me across the street would be so great, but I don't.

"I need to sort out my own house before I can move anywhere."

"Bella, are you making excuses? If it's easier to stay where you are—"

"Do you want me to stay married?" I ask him, because really I don't know what Edward's thoughts are about this at all. Does he even care one way or the other? Maybe it's easier for him if I'm unobtainable, easier for him to find excuses, easier for him to always come back to: _you're married_.

He hesitates for a moment, long enough to make sure I'm looking straight into his eyes, before he answers me. "No, I don't."

"Okay then." I exhale slowly, relieved by his answer. "I just can't afford to pay my mortgage and pay rent at the same time, that's all."

"Okay, I get that."

Whimpering from Kaley's room draws his attention and he leaves me standing in the kitchen to see what his daughter needs.

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><p><strong>AN:** **This one's split again; the rest of the evening is in the next update. Thanks to anyone still reading.**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: June 25th continued...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 25<strong>

Almost twenty minutes later I hear movement from down the hall, Kaley's protests begging him not to go, and Edward's promise to return shortly. By the time he walks into the living room I'm holding my phone and my keys ready to go home.

"I'm trying to get her to settle," he says apologetically.

"Baby, it's fine. I understand." And I really do. He's already told me she hasn't slept well since she saw her mom and she needs the reassurance of her daddy right now. I'm not going to make him feel bad for being her father. "I should go though and let the two of you get to bed." I touch his hand to let him know I'm not leaving on bad terms.

"No, please stay. I won't be long, she's nearly sleeping." His eyes look desperate, like if I left we'd both be sorry, instead of just me.

"Okay," I say with a smile, because I honestly don't mind waiting for him, it's all I seem to do anyway.

Edward disappears back into the darkness of the hallway and I try and lose myself in the late night movie that's showing. Not five minutes later I hear more footsteps—two sets this time—and I briefly hold my breath and wonder where on earth I can possibly hide. The simple fact is, there is nowhere. Fortunately I'm saved by the fact that it's not a drink that Kaley is after but a trip to the little girl's room.

As the door opens again soft murmurings reach my ear. "Daddy, can I sleep in your bed?" I don't hear his reply but the few extra steps down the hall tell me that's where they're headed.

His mouth on mine wakes me and I don't know how long has passed, or what time it is, but I kiss him back, running my hand over his shoulder and behind his neck. He starts to pull at my clothes, wanting access to more skin than I've already given him. "Kaley?"

"Asleep?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He tugs at the top of my dress, eager to get to my breasts. "Take this off."

"That's probably not a good idea. What if she wakes up?" As I ask, Edward's already striped down to his boxers and I can see how hard he is through them.

"I don't think seeing you naked is going to make a difference with everything else that's going on in here."

He raises a valid point, but do I really want to risk a potential first meeting with his daughter while all my worldly goods are on display? Absolutely not; the dress stays on—and I tell him as much.

For over an hour we try and be quiet, often forgetting ourselves, each trying to smother the other when the noise becomes too much of a risk. Once we're spent and lying on the hardwood floor he groans at me. "How did you get the pillow?"

"Just lucky I guess," I quip back through chattering teeth.

"Are you cold, babe?" Edward's brow puckers a little in concern as he asks. But it is unusual; I'm never normally cold in his apartment, if anything it's usually too warm.

"Well," I say hooking my finger into the waist band of his boxers, "we didn't all get to put our underwear back on."

He laughs, and I still can't believe how much I love that sound, or how little I heard it until a few weeks ago. "That's true."

I sigh as I check the time—3:17am. "I should go."

"Yeah, I guess. Kaley'll freak out if she wakes up and I'm not there."

I get dressed and grab my keys. It feels weird not to have a bag with me, not to be staying over. I thought it would be easy coming over, seeing him and then leaving again. But now that I'm here I really don't want to go. Turning around, he's standing there watching me. "You got everything?" His voice sounds different. The laughter from a few moments ago has gone again, and for a moment I wonder if I did something, but I shake it off.

"Yeah, didn't really bring anything," I say with a smile.

"Right. Okay, get out then," Edward smirks. "I need to go to bed."

When I reach him at the door he kisses me, his hand warm on my neck, and as I walk down the stairs and out to the car my lips are still tingling.

I'm a third of the way home when my phone lights up with a message. My immediate thought is that I've forgotten something and I wonder what else he's going to hold captive along with my pajamas. I slow down and peer at the text: _I genuinely wish you hadn't had to leave._

I pull the car over when the words blur and I can't read them any more. I send back a quick text, telling him it's the same for me, but that I don't ever want him to think that I don't understand. Still, the tears won't stop as I drive further away from him.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: The next few chapters cover July 1st and 2nd.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 26<strong>

The more Edward tells me about the new nanny he's hired the faster I seem to drink the bottle of wine I brought with me.

She's almost fully qualified, working toward the last of her certificates, and Kaley loves her already, of course these are the most important things—that Kaley will be safe and that she feels comfortable. What I don't love is the fact that she's blonde, twenty-three years old, likes to swim and keep fit in her spare time, will be here at least twenty-five hours a week, and will have a key to his apartment.

I can't help the jealousy running through my body, and Edward doesn't mind teasing me about it, getting little jibes in saying he hopes he doesn't walk in on her in the bathroom, and it's a pity she has a boyfriend.

"You think you're so funny," I pout back at him.

"You know I have a policy about payroll," he says softly, all teasing gone from his voice now. Being the only guy surrounded by women at work all day I've heard his somewhat crude payroll policy before: don't poke the payroll. I also know that he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize Kaley's happiness, but that doesn't quell the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. He has a high sex-drive and she's going to be here a hell of a lot more than I am.

Edward's phone goes and he looks at the screen. "It's my ex's mom, shh," he says, putting his finger to his lips. "Okay?" I nod my head and grab my book out of my bag as he heads for the kitchen answering the phone on the way.

For the next little while they chat about Kaley, court dates, his ex wanting to see their daughter, and the fact he's reluctant to let Kaley out of his sight. When the conversation becomes personal—him talking about a time when he was happy with his ex, the fact that she never got up in the night when Kaley was little, and that he suspected her of cheating on him months before they ended things—I decide to retreat to his bedroom to give him some privacy. If Edward wanted me to know all of this he'd have told me himself, I wouldn't be hearing it via a one-sided phone conversation.

By the time he's done, the wine I drank earlier is coursing nicely through my blood, making my feel light headed and reminding me that all I've really eaten today was cereal at breakfast.

"You coming back out?" he asks, running his hand up the back of my leg, leaning over the bed.

"Sure."

I follow him to the kitchen and take the last glass of wine from him. I notice two more empty bottles of beer on the counter and know that he must be pretty drunk, or close to it, now too. Edward watches me from his side of the kitchen, and I love the way he moves toward me slowly, like he's teasing and playing, but planning his next move too. His eyes never leave mine and when he gets close enough I put my glass down. My eyes leave his for a few seconds but it's enough to lower my guard and I feel his mouth on my neck, sucking, licking and biting gently.

He knows he's not allowed, but it feels so good that I can't find the will to care. He pulls on my hair softly, drawing my lips to his bare shoulder, and I drag my teeth across his skin to the juncture between his collarbone and his throat. My tongue and lips follow his example and I know I'm leaving a little mark on his neck.

I pull away, stopping our nonsense. As good as it might feel, and as caught up in the moment as we are, it'll only lead to trouble. Edward's hands move to the button on my jeans and then to the hem of my t-shirt.

"Come on, baby. Let's go to bed." I give him a nudge and let him lead the way.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: This continues from the last chapter.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 27<strong>

"You order. I don't like using the phone." We're dressed again, sort of; lounge pants for him, and a vest and panties for me.

"That's a piss poor excuse." But I order the Chinese anyway, and then later when the door goes I answer it in my underwear just to spite him when he tells me I have to put clothes on.

While we're waiting for it to arrive, and in my drunken state, I ask Edward, "How would you term our relationship?" I roll my eyes internally and wish I could stop myself from talking.

"I don't know," he replies with a shrug. He knows that his shrugging bugs me.

"Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? Sex friends?"

"We're not fuck buddies," he states incredulously. He actually seems disgusted by this concept and if I'm honest this reaction pleases me. "What do you class me as?"

Fuck! The wine was an exceptionally bad idea. I haven't got a hope in hell's chance of keeping my feelings to myself with this much alcohol in my system. All Edward has to do is ask the right questions and I'm done for.

Rose, for all of her 'give him something back' pep talks at work, didn't have a scenario for me being wasted and making an ass out of myself.

"Well? What am I to you?"

"I don't know." I shrug back at him, but before I can stop myself the verbal diarrhea starts. "But on the grounds that I'm very drunk, and I've had a bottle of wine, and the fact that you did ask, I'd probably say the closest thing would be...boyfriend?" I finish the statement more like a question.

He smiles at me from my position between his legs, my head resting on his inner thigh. "I can't be your boyfriend; you have a husband. And I have a girlfriend."

This is news to me. The last time we spoke about his girlfriend he told me they'd broken up.

"Well I don't, but she might think I do…"

"What do you mean? You either have a girlfriend or you don't."

"I broke things off. But I don't know if she realizes it was for good," Edward explains. "It's done, honestly. Besides, she's pregnant."

I fight the urge to vomit. I can be patient, and give him time for his daughter, but a pregnant ex-girlfriend? He just tore my lungs from my chest. I'm not even sure I can process this right now.

"Pregnant?"

"It's not mine."

"How do you know? You're never careful." I can't look at him, I've got tears in my eyes and I won't be able to stop them.

"She's got three kids already, I wasn't taking any chances; trust me I was careful. It might be hard to believe but I usually am. You're the only one I've not been careful with."

"Why?" I don't know quite how to feel about that. Don't I matter enough? Didn't he deem it important? I try and think back over his reasons before but all I can hear is, _she's pregnant._

"Because I felt safe with you, I guess." Edward's voice is quieter than before, like he didn't ever expect to have to confess the words. "We were on a break for weeks and then she told me. I know she was seeing someone else too. The dates don't add up. It's not mine."

A knock at the door means I have to get up and see to dinner, forcing our conversation to stop for now.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Part 3... This takes place during July 2nd.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 28<strong>

The need to use the bathroom is what wakes me all too early. Despite it being a little after five-thirty the sun is already shining brightly through the window. It's only as I try to get up, and the pounding in my head worsens, that I remember the bottle of wine I drank before bed.

Looking around the bed, I try and locate my top, recalling how Edward managed to get to me sleep in only my panties last night.

_"I like the feel of you against me."_

_"When I'm skinny and tiny I'll sleep naked," I say before I can stop my drunken ramblings._

_"I like your body just the way it is," he murmurs sincerely, slipping his hands under the fabric and across my stomach._

_"It's too hot to sleep naked. We'll get all sticky."_

_"I like sticky. I wanna feel you."_

Pulling my vest from under the pillows I drag myself to the bathroom, trying not to vomit en route. It's touch and go but I manage to make it back from the bathroom without incident, though I have to remove last night's dishes from the bedroom—and hopefully the smell along with them—and also get a glass of water from the kitchen.

The external wall of his bedroom runs parallel alongside the bed, and I find that as long as I press myself against it the cool stone chills my overheated skin and goes a long way toward stilling my spinning head.

I drift in and out, feeling him pull me closer at times or nudge me as he moves away, but I can't get up, my head is so sore.

"Hey." I'm not sure that I want to acknowledge his voice but Edward's fingertips brushing along my arm feel so nice that I can't ignore him.

"Mmmm," I moan. "Is it still morning," I ask as I open my eyes.

"Yeah," he says, leaning up on his elbows and peering out of the window.

I laugh at him. "You can't tell that from the window."

"It's a little after ten."

"That's too early." I roll away toward the wall and whimper when my skin hits it. "Why's it not cool?"

His body at my back doesn't help the heat but I like the feel of his hands on me. "Because your body's made it warm, babe." He tugs at my panties and kisses my shoulder.

"My head's too sore," I whine, but even as I do, and Edward starts to move away, relenting without a fuss, I remove my underwear and reach for him. We move slowly and he holds my head, careful not to be too rough. I can't even get up to go to the bathroom once we're done, and I've needed to pee for at least an hour.

He'd normally put the TV on, but today we make small talk. It's not long before he's knocking my driving.

"You've crashed twice in the seven months I've known you."

"And they were hardly my fault!" I defend. "I slipped on ice for the first and a transit drove into me for the second."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Don't even start with that." I nudge him playfully. "I could be cruel if I wanted to."

"Come on then, I can take it."

I decide to let him have it. "I wouldn't have had the second bump if I hadn't been picking up a friend so that she could sleep with you." Funny how things work out; I guess that's one of the pitfalls of meeting a guy on line. Hindsight being what it is, we've come a long way since then and that whole incident was before the seven weeks that we seemed to be on our, sort of, undisclosed break, some five months ago.

"It's nice to share," Edward jibes back, a look akin to guilt in his eyes.

"I don't like to share, and that's not even funny," I state with another nudge.

"Hmph," he scoffs. "You're married!" And as he says the words I think he's throwing the whole fucked up situation at me again. It's not until later when I'm driving home and replaying the moment through my head that I realize he shares me. Maybe Edward's tone wasn't him reminding me that he could do what he wanted back when we _were_ just fooling around, when emotions didn't factor into anything, but just maybe he was reminding me that, now when there might be feelings to consider, he knows that I go home to someone else.

"If you had the opportunity to sleep with someone else, would you?"

"There's always opportunity," Edward jokes.

"I'm serious, would you?"

"I don't know," he says with a shrug. I don't know what to say. The conversation is honest, he's not been drinking, he might still have his defences up but it's not like we've ever said what we're doing is exclusive. "Don't get huffy."

"I'm not getting huffy," I reply, simply thinking about what he's said and trying to reconcile that with previous times he's told me that this is more than no strings, or that I mean the world to him. "How many people are you sleeping with right now?"

He laughs and rolls away from me. "God, it feels like I work up in jail this morning, all these questions."

Edward's right, I guess, I've asked a few. But I don't often get the chance to ask any when he's completely sober. "Just answer the question, please? And come back, don't turn away."

"Just you," he says, rolling back to face me. "How many are you sleeping with?"

"You're the only guy I've slept with in over seven months," I state with determination as I fix my eyes on his.

"That's what all the married people say. I watch TV." If I didn't know him better I'd say he was jealous, and I wish I had the courage to call him out on it, but I don't want to hear more of his deflections; I want him to be raw and honest with me.

I decide to try a little of my own medicine, despite my hangover. "Do you know what the irony here is?" I pause until I know I have Edward's attention. "If I _was_ to sleep with my husband, I'd feel like I was cheating on you."

"Babe, that's fucked up."

You're telling me.

We stay in bed for the rest of the day, sleeping some and talking a little more when we're awake. In an effort to try and rid myself of my hangover I keep myself pressed against the wall. I wake a short while later when the heat becomes too much, only to find myself pinned against the wall, his body pressed along the length of mine, his arm over my waist and his thigh pushed between my own.

Despite my discomfort I like Edward being close too much to try and move him.

The only time my head gets any respite is when we are naked and our bodies are sticking to each other. His breath on my skin, my mouth on his, him moving between my thighs. Only when our movements stop does my head begin to throb again.

"I hope you realize that we're doing this all day," I state. "It's the only time my migraine stops thumping."

"It's a hangover, babe, not a migraine." He chuckles at me and moves away, trying to put a little distance between the warmth of our skin.

"The doctor will love that at the hospital on Monday," I state. " 'I've found a cure for my migraines after almost twelve years—sex!' " Though I don't tell him this has never seemed to be a remedy prior to meeting him.

"He'll just tell you to get a toy," he deadpans back at me.

"I have those. They're not the same."

At six P.M. Edward finally gets up. "I'm gonna have to kick you out," he says apologetically.

"I know," I groan. My head still feels like it's swimming.

"I still have stuff to do before I head over to my mom's and get Kaley." I sit up slowly and he kisses me, coaxing me to the edge of the bed. "I also have to try and find something to cover the marks on my neck." He looks at me pointedly. "My mom will kick my ass if she sees them."

"I'm sorry," I half whine at him. I really do feel bad.

"It's fine, babe. As long as my shirt and tie cover them for court on Friday." He kisses me again. I'd forgotten about court this week. "I don't know what excuse _you're_ going to use though," Edward says quietly, running his thumb over my neck as he speaks.

"What?" I get out of bed and head for the bathroom mirror. Sure enough right along my neck and under my ear is a smattering of love bite bruising. It's not as distinct as the circular mark on his neck, but still, as I stare at the purplish markings I can't help but think this might just be what gets me caught.

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><p><strong>AN: So this one was a long one; I'm still processing the weekend myself. I probably won't hear anything from Edward until after his court date on July 8th, so might be back in a week or so...**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: July 7th, the day before court.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 29<strong>

"Come on," Edward says, and I can hear he's a little frustrated.

"I'm not expecting anything," I repeat. "The truth is if I were to move in across the road I'd hardly be there anyway with my shifts at work; I probably wouldn't see you any more than I do now. The only difference would be the thirty minute drive would become a minute walk instead."

"That's it?" He stares at me, his chopsticks hovering in mid-air while I drink my juice.

God, he's infuriating tonight. He has court tomorrow—his first of two dates for Kaley—and my being here was supposed to be a distraction so he wouldn't worry so much. "What do you want me to say?"

Edward's shoulders slump and he pushes his plate away. "I don't know what will happen if you take the apartment, that's all. I just didn't want you to get your hopes up." He doesn't want to disappoint me, but I'm not a child.

I take a deep breath. "I'm not an idiot. I know what'll likely happen." He looks at me then, his eyebrows raised in expectation. "I'm guessing I'm more appealing to you married than I will be unattached. I also think that if I move in over the way that I'll see you less then than I do now."

Before I can continue with the way things will probably turn out, even if neither of us means them to, he interrupts. "You're wrong. It would be the opposite if anything."

I'd see him more? I don't want to get ahead of myself, so I stay quiet and let him talk.

"Would you still be doing all of this if it wasn't for me?"

We've spoken about this before. "Yes, I would. I've told you, I'm not happy." I turn and walk out to the sofa, arranging myself among the cushions as he continues.

"I just feel like you're giving up everything for me. That's a lot of pressure for me." God, it sounds like Edward's really been thinking about this. I'm pleased and surprised all at once. Pleased that I've crossed his mind for more than just his physical needs, especially when I'm not here; surprised because he's let himself feel responsible for something outside of his control.

"It shouldn't be. It's not for you, it's for me."

"But it's my fault, it's because of me."

"Essentially, yes, I guess so. But it's more because of this situation. It could just as easily have been because of someone or something else, not you specifically. I've not been happy for longer than I've known you, not since a year past February. Do you remember back when we had all that bad weather and I told you I couldn't get her because of the snow and ice? You thought I was teasing you?"

"Yeah, I remember, but the weather was pretty bad."

"Well, sure, it was, but I was stalling a little too. I wasn't sure if I could actually come over here and go through with it. I wasn't sure I could be with you." Edward looks at me like he's not sure of what I've said. "The fact that I came over here in the first place tells me my marriage was over _then_, I just didn't want to see it."

"So what happens if, in two weeks' time, this all stops?" He's pushing harder than usual tonight, maybe this is what he wants, to provoke me, to push me away, to concentrate on something other than the possibility of losing Kaley.

"The fact that you're even thinking it could end in two weeks tells me it probably will."

"Don't even," he threatens in a tone that makes me wonder why we're even having this conversation. "But what _if_ it all stops?" Maybe he just wants some assurance that I'll be okay, just wants to know that he doesn't have to worry about me falling apart. I can try and give him that…maybe.

"So what if it does? I can't control it, can I?" I've never controlled anything here. It's always been on his say so; I come and go on his invitation.

"What would you do if I had to say that we couldn't see each other any more?"

"You mean if this was the last time I was going to see you?" I manage to keep my voice steady but I'm thankful he's got his back to me as I ask.

"This won't be the last time but yes." Before I can reply Edward speaks again. "You don't even need to tell me, because I'd be the same, I'd be gutted too." I wipe at the tears in my eyes and bite down on my lip to stop myself from saying anything. But I'm suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to confess everything.

To tell him I'm falling for him and that I want him to let me in. That I know his feelings for me aren't the same but that maybe over time he could learn to trust me a little bit. That I don't care he has 'baggage,' I just want to get to know them both—_really_ know them.

But with court tomorrow, and his head all over the place, I can't be that selfish.

Instead I say, "Okay so if it wasn't for everything that was going on—Kaley and court, me getting separated—how do you feel about me? Your feelings don't change even with everything that's happening."

He looks and me and licks his lips, like he's processing what I've asked. "If it was two months ago I'd ask you to leave him and move in here."

I have to remind myself that two months ago we weren't where we are now emotionally, because this wasn't a conversation that we even hypothesized about then.

"_I've_ said it before, and _you've_ said it before, you wouldn't have anyone else living here."

"We'd make it work. We'd adjust."

"I wouldn't get my stuff in here for the amount of clothes in your wardrobe," I joke.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Edward laughs and I shake my head, not having any idea myself.

"You're avoiding the question," I mumble.

"What question?"

"How do you feel? None of this other stuff matters. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Like I said, if this was two months ago instead, you'd be here."

"That doesn't tell me anything."

"I can't promise you anything. I don't know what's going to happen. Kaley comes first."

"I've never asked for it to be any other way. I'm not _asking_ for a commitment. I can't get you to commit to a weekend never mind anything longer." I swallow hard before powering on. "I don't know how things were with your ex or why you broke up, I've tried not to be nosey and I figured if you wanted to tell me you would. I know you don't trust me—"

"I _do_ trust you."

"No you don't. You've told me before that you don't." I can feel my throat getting tight and the tears threatening to start again. "I just want you to be honest with me."

"I don't know how I feel," he lies.

Edward pushed and this time I've pushed back, maybe too hard.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: I know it's been while since I updated; sorry about the wait. This is from July 13****th****.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 30<strong>

"How did it go this time?" I ask Edward, picturing him stood in the kitchen leaning with his hands spread on the counter.

His second court date was today; the first could have gone better. He didn't have his own lawyer and the replacement they sent didn't seem to know her own ass from her elbow. His ex got unsupervised visitation for four hours a week and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"It went okay." Edward's voice sounds down the phone like he's right next to me, and I close my eyes to try and remove the distance between us. "Better than last time, anyway. At least it was my own lawyer this time."

Just like last week, he's left me waiting all day to hear about his court case, and it's me that calls him. This should tell me what I clearly don't want to acknowledge—I'm not important enough for him to tell, I'm not a part of this section of Edward's life, I should stop trying to involve myself where he doesn't want to include me—but as usual, I turn a blind eye.

"So she's completely yours?"

"Yeah," he confirms with a relieved sigh.

"And the supervised visits?"

"Still unsupervised, six hours a week. The Judge didn't want to go against the previous ruling." I can hear from Edward's tone that he's not happy. "But she can't take Kaley around her boyfriend; it's just to be the two of them."

"Well, at least that's something."

"I couldn't believe it though, babe, she actually brought him to the court house."

"What?"

"He stood there with a smug look on his face the whole time we were waiting outside. It was like he was just trying to provoke me."

"Christ, please tell me you behaved yourself?"

"Of course I did, but trust me—he's gonna get it."

I know Edward means it, and I can't stop him.

"Just don't get caught," I state.

"You know me better than that."

I sigh quietly because I'm not really sure that I know him at all.

"How's your week been, anyway?" he asks, and I can hear him take a mouthful of what I presume to be beer as he waits for my answer.

I tell Edward my week's been okay, that I've been busy decorating the house with my dad, trying to get it ready to sell. But my conversation doesn't hold his interest, or he just doesn't care, and before long we're talking about him and his week again. But he's had a stressful week and I listen patiently as he vents his frustrations.

It's another ten minutes before he grows tired. "I need to go to bed, babe."

"Okay." I don't ask when I'll hear from him next, he's fallen back into old habits of broken promises and leaving me bereft for days at a time.

"Sweet dreams."

"You too," I whisper back, wondering as the line goes dead if Edward picked up in the first place because he wanted to hear my voice or just because he wanted to get everything off his chest.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: And from July 15****th****…**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 31<strong>

"What have you been up to?" Edward asks, his voice sounding calm down the phone.

"Not much, just working. You?" I don't want to tell him straight away; I don't really want to tell him down the phone at all but I know I won't have much choice.

"Just trying to sort out childcare. The nanny's probably not going to work out, she's expecting too much pay for the hours she'll be working."

"Oh, really? That's a shame." And it is; I know that Kaley liked her.

"Yeah, well, there's a childminder I can take her to instead. It's not ideal but I can make it work."

We chat some more about the changes Edward'll have to make now that he's not hiring the nanny, it sounds like I'll probably see him even less.

"I went to see a lawyer today," I say when there's a break in the conversation.

"Oh. And?"

"And I when I got home I told him I wanted a divorce."

"What do you mean told him? You only told him today?" Edward sounds shocked, like he was expecting something else and now I wish we'd had this conversation face to face. But who knows how long I'd have had to wait to tell him, and that wouldn't have been right either.

"Well, yes. I wanted to see the lawyer first and find out where I stood, you know, legally."

"Sure, I guess." I can hear him lighting a cigarette down the phone and taking a drink before he speaks again. "How'd he take it?"

"How'd you think? Not very well." This is an understatement, but Edward doesn't need to know all of the sordid details. "But don't worry, I kept your name out of it."

"Thanks," he says quietly, and then after a minute, "I should probably go to bed."

"Oh." I'm disappointed, but I don't know what else I expected him to say. "Okay." It's suddenly got real now, I suppose. I've still not asked Edward for anything but maybe he just needs time to process everything. "Night."

"I'll text you tomorrow, night."


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: From the July 18****th****…**

As Kaley sleeps in his bedroom, Edward and I both occupy the sofa, his feet pressed into my thigh while he scrunches his toes against the fabric of my jeans. I absently run my hand over the top of his foot, watching the DVD that's been playing since I arrived.

Even though these late night summons continue, he never gets right down to it as soon as I'm through the door. There's a modicum of normalcy, of what once was, before our clothes come off and we're just skin on skin. I idly wonder if this is for Edward's benefit or mine. I don't mind either way, I like the delay. I could call it the anticipation of what's to come, but really it's the difference between feeling like he wants to spend some time with me and feeling like his call-girl.

I close my eyes and feel sleep trying to pull me under. It's late and I'm tired. I decide to relent; he'll let me know when he wants what he text me for.

Sure enough, Edward's lips on mine wake me, while his fingers deftly push the button of my jeans through its hole and tug at the zipper. "Lift up," he whispers. "I want to taste you." I smile lazily, still sleepy, but do as he asks. After all, who can say no to that?

He takes his time, pleasing me rather than making demands on my time, and when he's had enough Edward moves beside me, teasing me with his fingers, coaxing each gasp and moan from my throat, one after the next, like he knows exactly what he's doing. "I love watching you come," Edward murmurs against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. I've no words as I turn to look at him and all I can think is how cocksure he looks with the corner of his mouth pulled up into a sexy smirk.

He leans forward and kisses me hungrily, and I kiss him back, running my hand over his and lacing my fingers with his own between my thighs as I try and catch my breath.

"Think you can do it again?" I bait, wondering if _I_ can do it again.

"Yeah."

And then all I can focus on is more kissing, more gasping and more writhing as he finds his rhythm—and mine.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: This is from July 20****th****.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 33<strong>

My phone vibrates and I smile knowing it's Edward, but my smile doesn't last long when I see his message. He's alone and he didn't text earlier. That's not like him.

_You didn't want company?_ I ask.

My phone beeps; I read the words and hear nothing but white noise.

_Maybe if I'd had a drink, but I'm just going to head to bed._

Without consent tears run down my cheeks. I am entirely broken. I wish I could feel nothing but I hurt everywhere. One single thought keeps looping through my head and I can focus on nothing else for a few minutes until finally, with shaking fingers, I text back: _Had you been drinking the other night when I came over?_

It didn't seem like it, and I wait with baited breath until my phone beeps again.

_Two beers._

I stare at the screen until my eyes sting and I can't see the words any more. I can't breath and I know the cries I hear are my own but I can't stop them. Everything Edward has ever said to me has been a lie; a hateful drunken lie. His voice fills my head, drowning out the noise I'm making.

_Come on, you know I like you._

_I like having you here._

_Come with me. Just somewhere hot…_

_I want you to stay._

_I missed you last night._

_This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me._

_I'd say 'fuck it' and you'd move in here._

_You being that close would be great._

_We're not fuck buddies._

_You mean the world to me._

_I like your body just the way it is._

_I genuinely wish you hadn't had to leave._

_I __do_ trust you.__

_Love you._

My breathing begins to slow, my sobbing turning into pitiful hiccoughs and sniffles. My stomach hurts and my chest aches. My cheeks feel tight where salty tears have dried into puffy skin, and as I stare into the darkness my solitary thought returns, accompanied by one other.

He has to be drunk to fuck you.

He has to be drunk to even see you.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Sorry to have kept so many chapters under wraps. I'm sure as you understand after reading the last chapter, I didn't feel much like updating. This is from July 30****th.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 34<strong>

Edward lets me in the same as always, and it's as if nothing's different, like the last thing he implied hasn't been the only thing I've thought about for ten days. Quiet greetings are exchanged and I perch on the sofa, wondering if we're really going to go through the rigmarole of small talk and pleasantries or just get down to the reason he invited me over.

"Did you see the apartment at the end of the street?" he asks, lighting a cigarette in the kitchen.

I don't know why he bothers, why this pretence continues, but as usual I say nothing about it. I don't know where my voice goes when I'm with him; it's not like me to hold my tongue.

"No I didn't see it, but the one around the corner's gone. Anyway, I'm not moving out," I tell him. There's no point in pretending. I understand Edward's position now, and there's no way I'm spending my entire salary each month to move in down the street and be his fuck buddy when he's drunk and wants a good time.

"Oh. Why not?" Mild panic laces his tone. "I'd help you get it all sorted out, babe. I could do any of the decorating stuff or some remodeling."

More lies and bullshit; I can't help but notice the half empty bottle of beer on the counter in the kitchen. I only just got here and I don't want him to kick me out, but really what I want is to ask him what he's playing at. Why the concern over where I live or how close I am? What does it matter to him either way?

It seems to me that just as Edward's foot is teasing the gas pedal, and I'm happy to jump in for the ride, something makes him panic and he slams on the brakes, backing up in the process. I can't take much more of his emotional whiplash, and all this to-and-fro nonsense is mentally exhausting.

"Thanks, but so could my dad," I brush off his offer, a little fed up of him saying in one breath he can't make promises and then contradicting himself with the next breath he takes.

I've not heard from Edward in almost two weeks, no texts, no calls, and now he's talking about being there for painting and drywall. It's all I can do not to laugh in his face.

"It's not that though," I continue. "Home's a bit awkward right now. He wants to try a trial separation."

"What do you mean?"

"Four or six months, something like that."

"I don't want you doing everything for us, but if you're not happy can't you just tell him?"

"I did tell him. I told him that I didn't love him any more." I don't add that I'm in love with someone else. It almost seems like a waste to say it at all. "He seems to think that giving me some time is going to change that."

"I'm being selfish, but having you close would be good."

"Of course it would be," I state with a scoff. "You wouldn't have to wait thirty minutes for me to drive over, like tonight." I'm here because Edward wants sex, that much has been made clear. Tonight, just like last time, is a _booty call_, nothing more. It's not about seeing me, or being close.

"That's not it." If it's not, he doesn't offer any other explanation.

"I can't afford to move out," I continue frankly. "I can't pay bills on my own place and still pay half for the house too. We'd need to sell it, and he won't at the moment. His one small concession is that _he's_ moving out."

I don't add that this is only a quasi-moving out arrangement. That in fact the only concession he would give me was the long weekends that I don't work he'll stay at his parents' to give me some extra space. The rest of the time he'll still be at the house.

"So you'll have the house to yourself?" Edward asks, a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Yes..." I answer, wondering where he's going with this.

"How far away are you from work exactly?"

I suddenly have a very bad feeling about this. "About a five minute walk. Why?"

"I could always pop round for a little fun at lunchtime."

I laugh. It sounds nervous in my ears but I don't think he notices. "Yeah, I guess you could." Edward never takes a lunch break; he'd only draw suspicion if he started. Even though I've agreed, I think I'm pretty safe, besides, he's sober at work.

"God, you're still married though," he says almost under his breath.

"No, I'm not. Not really. I'm separated, that's different."

"You're right it is," he agrees, nodding as if he's trying to convince himself. "I still feel bad."

"Why do you feel bad? You didn't feel bad months ago, why start now?"

"It's just more real now, I guess."

"Oh, right," I whisper absently. "So the last several months haven't been real." So what have they been to him? I can't get my thoughts in line fast enough before he starts to backtrack.

"That's not what I meant." But again, Edward offers no clarification.

The silence that descends is a little awkward. After a few minutes I ask, "So what have you been up to the last couple of weeks?"

"It's not been two weeks."

I roll my eyes, though he can't see. "Close enough."

"I've been trying to get into a routine with Kaley. We've been up at six and I've been going to bed early too."

I've lost track of when I tried to call and text him, but it wouldn't have killed him to text once and let me know he was okay, or to reply in the morning to a text from the night before. I'm getting the brush off and I know it. This is the sort of thing that upsets me the most. Why go to the length of telling an unbelievable lie rather than just telling the truth? I'd believe Edward more if he just said, _I didn't have time for you this week_, or _I didn't really get the chance to think much about you this week_.

Would the truth have hurt? Yes; but no more than the lie I _know_ to be bullshit.

"I guess when you didn't reply I just assumed you'd changed your number." He'd offered me his new number last time I was here but I'd forgotten to take it.

"I'm not using it yet, but you've got my new number, babe."

"No, I don't," I murmur.

Edward walks out of the kitchen and past me, through to his bedroom and back again, passing me his new phone when he returns. "I don't know how to use it yet," he says sheepishly. "But take the number, you should have it." I do as I'm told and move to give the phone back to him. "Put your number in it."

I bring up his phonebook and see that it's empty. No one else is in it yet, I'll be his first. I key in my number, but am then faced with a small dilemma. "What name am I entering this under?"

"Yours, babe. Bella."

"Thought I was usually listed as Arizona?" When we'd met online Arizona was my screen name. For the last seven months I've never been anything different. I've never just been Bella.

"You were. Use your real name."

Again, I do as I'm told, but I say, "You won't know who I am when I text." Before I save my number I add 'Arizona' in the _nickname_ field.

"Shut up, I'll know. You're the first one in here too." Edward smiles as I hand him back the phone and I follow him into the kitchen.

It's not long before I'm pinned against the wall while he sucks at the skin along my throat. It's only taken an hour or so, but he's finally gotten around to why I'm here.

I need to be honest with him before I let it get too far.

"I'm not taking my contraception any more."

"Why not?" he asks, slowing his pace a little.

"It's not been agreeing with me," I tell him truthfully. It hasn't been for the last five weeks and during that time I've seen Edward three times. I decide that I'm not forcing something into my body on the basis that I may, or may not, see him a couple of times a month.

"Oh." He stops what he's doing for a second. "Well, the timing's not great, it'd be better if you stopped it once everything's blown over and sorted." I have no idea what he even means by that, but it's not the sort of conversation I envision having while his hand is in my panties.

"I still have a week to take it," I offer half-heartedly, because really, I'd rather not. If he's that concerned we can start using condoms.

"Not if it's making you sick," he relents, kissing his way along my neck again and working at removing my underwear.

There was a time in the middle of all of this, when I was sleeping in Edward's bed and he was making me coffee in the morning, when we would watch T.V. all day and when he would say, _stay again tonight_, that I felt like a little part of his world; like he was trying to include me.

Now I feel like I've come full circle. Bootie calls and being treated like a dirty girl, used when he wants and ignored when he chooses. Try as I might to ignore it, I can't deny the taste of whorish bile fighting its way up my throat whenever I think of the way I let Edward treat me.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:**** August**** 6th**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 35<strong>

I can feel Edward's eyes on me and as I peer over the edge of my book from my place on the sofa I catch him watching from the kitchen.

"What?" I ask with a smile. He shakes his head and smiles back, disappearing out of sight and leaving me to my book. A few minutes later I feel it again. I laugh this time before lifting my eyes to his. "Stop it. You're freaking me out." But he doesn't stop; he simply winks and blows me a kiss. I shake my head at his crazy, playful mood and blow him one back.

The song that comes on is one I haven't heard since high school and I smile at how fitting the lyrics are to our twisted situation.

"I love this song," Edward says over the music, singing along quietly to the chorus, staring right at me as he does, like he's saying the words to me. I wonder for a moment if it's like that for him too; if he's as much a fool for me as I am for him, if he holds me at arms length because, like me, he's in so deep he feels like he's going to drown.

When it's done he plays it again, only then do the lyrics reach deeper. If anything, this is my song to him. Edward can sing it at me all he wants; but it's almost like he knows he holds some power over me. I laugh as he winks at me again, because I _am_ in so deep. I give him the power in the first place, I relinquish it freely; I want to be here, with him.

With a sigh and another laugh at his boyish winking and kiss blowing, I sing along. I am indeed a fool.

**A/N: The music track was "Linger" by The Cranberries.**


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: August 6th continued **

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><p><strong>Chapter 36<strong>

I don't know if it's the amount that he's had to drink that results in position number four or if it's the fact that the light is now on at his bedside. Either way, as Edward moves over me I can tell he's getting frustrated. I don't want to distract him or make him angry but we've been at this for over an hour. He pulls himself up onto his knees and brings my legs up over his shoulders; his forehead pinches and his eyes crinkle closed. He won't even look at me.

Then the horror of the situation hits me; we don't usually have the light on. It's usually just the soft glow of the street lights through the window or the muted morning sunlight filtering in from behind the clouds. Maybe his drinking isn't the issue here at all. Maybe Edward just can't bear to look at me. Images rush through my head of all the times he's taken me—bent over the bed or the sofa, pinned to the wall or a door. So few times have we done this face to face, so rarely has he had to look me in the eye.

I turn my head from his, worried that the expression on my face will give me away if he opens his eyes for a moment. At the same time he swings my legs to the side, coaxing me to my knees, but I can't do it. I can't take more of his passive aggressive avoidance—more of his rejection.

"I'll be back in a minute; I need to pee." I move quickly to the bathroom and once there bury my face in a towel to muffle my tears. I've been so stupid. Why do I even keep coming here?

After a few minutes I walk back into the bedroom. The light is off and Edward is sound asleep. I crawl over him, to the side I occupy when I'm here, and I lie still in the silence for a few minutes.

"I can't do this anymore. I think I'm in love with you and I'm pretty sure you don't even like me," I whisper into the darkness.

Only the sound of our breathing fills the room and I roll onto my side turning my back to him. A couple of minutes pass and I hear him move behind me. Edward's hand grips my bare hip as he settles in close, startling me, and for one terrifying moment I wonder if he's heard me. But his breathing is even on the nape of my neck and this time I find reassurance in his ignorance.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: August 8th**

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><p><strong>Chapter 37<strong>

"I need you to do something for me," I ask as I finish getting dressed. It's late—or early, depending on your perspective—about 2:30am, and I'm getting ready to leave after another of our rendezvous.

"Now's not the time for asking me stuff, babe," Edward says with a sleepy laugh, and I know he's right, but I need to say it before I leave.

"Yeah, well, I don't know when I'll next see you do I, and this is important."

"Kaley starts school next week and her grandparents will want to see her; there'll be time for you to stay over." Another empty promise; I'm beginning to grow accustomed to these, recognize them now.

"I've stayed over once in the last month. You're not telling me that she's only been at grandparents once." I shake my head when he goes to speak. "Look, I told you I wasn't going to make demands, and I've tried not to, what you do with your time is your business, but I need you to be serious for a minute." I don't believe that the opportunity for overnight house guests hasn't presented itself within the last month; I'm just more inclined to think I haven't been Edward's first choice. I am sure, however, that I don't want to dwell on thoughts of who else has been in his bed.

"So, I'll text you tomorrow. It's late," he says, trying to avoid what he undoubtedly knows is coming.

"Well in the likely event of that happening,"—I sass with a quirk of my eyebrow, knowing damn fine that his text will never come—"I need you to listen, okay?" I take his silence as his acquiescence. "I don't know how often you think about me when I'm not here, if at all, but as much as I'm not moving out for you or because of you, I need you to seriously think about how you feel about me moving in down the street. Because as much as I think I could probably live under your nose without you even knowing, I don't want to sign a six month lease for you to have a shit fit about it."

"Like I said, now's really not the time, babe," Edward half whines, lolling his head back against the sofa.

"I just want you to think about it. It doesn't have to be now, just over the next few days." I state, getting up from the sofa and lifting my keys. I head for the front door, making no move toward Edward, but hoping that he'll follow me. He does, but as I open the door he doesn't kiss me goodbye, he let's me leave, saying again that he'll text me tomorrow.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: August 13th**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 38<strong>

Completely dressed again, I sit next to Edward on the sofa. A routine that has long since replaced morning shoulder kisses, coffee and TV in bed, this is now becoming all too familiar.

"Did you think about what I said when I was last here?" I ask, despite the fact that he's feigning sleep.

"Hmmm," he half grunts.

"Look at me, please?" I say, tilting his head as it lulls on the back of the sofa, hating the fact that I'm beginning to sound like I'm nagging him. Besides, my questions are pointless, and I know this.

The fact that I've not heard from Edward in five days has given me my answer. The fact that the text that _did_ arrive was sexual in nature only reinforces it further. I am nothing to him. This is nothing more than sex. We have fallen back into our old bubble, only now, the eleven P.M. to eight A.M. window we once had to play with is so much more restricted.

Edward's eyes flutter open minutely. "It's too late to talk."

"Okay." My tone is sharper than I mean for it to be and a part of me is glad that I don't sound so meek. I don't know if he walks over me like this because he chooses to or because I let him. Getting up from the sofa, I gather the few things I brought up with me. "I'll speak to you whenever then." He doesn't reply. "Come on, get up. You can't sleep here." I'm annoyed by his attitude, though I don't want to leave cross. He doesn't stir so I shake him gently. "Baby, come on. You have to go to bed."

He still doesn't respond. I resolve to leave him where he is; he'll go to bed when he's ready.

"I'm leaving." I don't expect him to say anything but it doesn't feel right to just walk out.

But that's what I do.

Edward doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't get up. He just lets me leave.


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: August 22nd**

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><p><strong>Chapter 39<strong>

When my phone vibrates the first time I ignore it. It's been over a week since I've heard from Edward and when I've text him, I've had nothing back. But when it vibrates again over an hour later I'm too curious to ignore him again. When I read his second message I can't help my smirk; ironically, he doesn't like it when _he_ doesn't get a reply.

When I arrive he leaves me sitting on his sofa, watching me from the kitchen as he sometimes does. "You're quiet," he observes.

"No, just thinking."

"Okay."

After a few minutes I ask, "Why don't you ever text me back?"

"I've been at my mom's all week." I can't help but wonder why this means Edward can't answer his phone, but I don't question him on it. "You knew I was going away, babe. I told you where I was going and that I'd be off work for a week when I came back, getting ready for Kaley starting school. Just taking some time out from all of the lawyers and the other shit I have to deal with."

Before I can stop it, the thought flits through my head that he includes me with all the other shit that he _deals_ with, because I was put out of mind along with anyone else he didn't want to think about: No lawyers, no work, no Bella.

"You didn't tell me." I've been forgotten about as usual. I need to start refocusing—I am not his priority, not his concern, not his focus, not in his thoughts, not his _anything_. Edward didn't tell me because I didn't need to know.

"I really thought I did."

I don't want to argue about something that clearly doesn't matter to him or something that I simply can't change, so I say, "Have you found my pajamas yet?" I wish I could just drop the damn subject, but a part of me tells myself that I only come back over here in the hopes of getting them back. That if they weren't here I could easily ignore his messages and resist the temptation to come over when he summons me. It's bullshit, and I know it.

"You must have taken them the last time you were here, babe."

"I really didn't." I know this because I didn't have enough room in my bag.

I follow him into his bedroom where he looks through his drawers. My pajamas aren't there, but neither are anyone else's at least.

"You must have thrown them away," I tease. "Or sent them home with one of your other girls."

"I don't have any other girls; I'm a respectable father now…sort of," Edward says back playfully.

"That doesn't stop you from keeping me around as a sex friend."

My comment is met with a sigh and when I question him on it he avoids answering, instead saying, "Maybe you left them at another guy's house."

"That's great, thanks." I turn my back to him and walk through his apartment. "I already feel like a slut coming here at your beck-and-call, so, yeah… That's just great."

Edward reaches for me, but I shake him off. "I'll have another look tomorrow," he says as I stand in the hallway ready to leave. I know he won't look, that it's not important, and that he probably has thrown them away. The symbolism and the significance isn't lost on me.

I feel his hand at the small of my back and I hesitate long enough for him to say, "I'll text you later."

I scoff. "You only ever text me when you wanna fool around and fuck." My eyes meet his, daring him to contradict what I've said.

"No I don't. That's not true," Edward defends, but he offers no instance where his words support fact. It's been so long since there has been a time that I can't remember one either.

His mouth on mine is a familiar distraction but he knows that it's not going to work this time. "I'll speak to you later," he calls after me as I make my way down the stairs.

"Yeah," I call back softly, knowing that I'll get a text in a few days whenever _he__'__s_ ready to see me.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: A week later...  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 40<strong>

"Have you been drinking?" Edward demands from his open doorway as I dance in the security light in his stairwell.

"I might have had one," I say with a teasing lilt. It makes a change for the shoe to be on the other foot.

"You shouldn't have driven over here." But we both know that even if I had said that I'd had a drink he would have found a way to get me here. Besides one drink six hours ago with dinner is long out of my system. "Who gave you flowers," he asks, his tone a little on edge and I wonder for a moment if it's jealousy I can hear.

"My team from work." I hold the bouquet out to him so he can get a better look. "They need water," I state.

As I follow Edward into the kitchen he asks, "Why'd they get you flowers?" He doesn't have a vase so begins to fill the sink with water.

"It's my birthday." My voice is soft, almost quiet. "Well, for another eight minutes."

"Babe. You never told me, I didn't know. Happy birthday." He squeezes my hand and kisses my cheek.

He's right though, I didn't tell him. I wanted to see if I would end up here by happenstance.

"Thanks."

"So what did you do tonight?"

"We went for dinner, the restaurant sang for me, then we had drinks, then you text; it was great," I finish with a smile, placing the flowers in the sink.

"Sounds like you had a good time."

"I really did." This is the last we discuss my birthday.

A short while later, as Edward's tidying around the kitchen, I find myself on the sofa, close to letting sleep take me. It's not long before I feel him tugging on my hand. "Let's go to bed."

It's been three weeks since I last stayed over and in some ways it feels strange now. There's that same initial sense of hesitation as the first night, the one that was reluctant to let him watch as I took off my clothes, the one that was dubious about staying in a strange bed with a man I didn't know; but it only lasts a few seconds, seguing almost immediately into the familiar, into the need I seem to have for him, regardless of any residual doubts.

"Stop teasing me," he demands, as I let my dress fall to the floor and stand there in my underwear.

I laugh. "Yeah, because it's always _me_ teasing _you_." I think about the times Edward texts only to say that it's too late for me to come over, and the almost promises he never quite makes.

"Get over here." He hooks his fingers into the side of my panties and tugs me toward the bed. I allow him to pull me down under the covers, still somewhat euphoric that I ended up here today of all days.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: October 17****th**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 41<strong>

As we wait for the food to arrive, he says, "You'll have some when it gets here, right?"

"No, I've eaten. It'll be too spicy anyway," I answer with a laugh.

"That's true. You now I like it spicy."

"Too spicy for my poorly stomach." I tease.

Edward's face becomes serious for a brief moment. "What's going on with you?"

"Why do you even want to know?" I ask, avoiding his eyes.

I'm sick, taking tablets for a condition yet to be diagnosed. It's inconvenient, to say the least, intrusive on my day-to-day life and disruptive to my job. He already knows I've taken time off work, but I don't want to talk about it here, don't want to discuss hospitals and tests. I don't want to be sick _here. _I just want to be Bella, I'll even take being Arizona over being sick. Besides, I think back through Edward's dating history to the ex-girlfriend with cancer and remember he didn't handle that so well.

"Because I'm curious."

I laugh a little under my breath not sure why I expect anything else. "Well, when _because I'm curious_ becomes _because I care_, I'll tell you."

He huffs, dejected. "I do care. Just because this is what it is, doesn't mean I don't."

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't know, just forget it."

"No. Come on, talk to me," I say, stroking his arm with my forefinger and lying down next to him.

"You must think I'm a total asshole most of the time."

I hesitate but decide to be honest, Edward'll probably forget anything I say anyway. "Some of the time I do."

"That's what I mean. When I'm not with you I'm with Kaley; she's the other woman. There is no one else. It just has to be me and her for right now. I thought you knew that."

"I do know it, and not once have I made any demands or ultimatums for your time. But let's not work under any disillusions here. This is a sex arrangement; you only contact me when that's what you want, there's no other level of a relationship here." I bite my tongue before I state my doubt in him even liking me, because apparently that's where I draw the line at self-respect.

"You know I fucking hate that. This is more than just sex, it's just complicated. I'm complicated."

"It's always complicated. You only ever text when you're drunk"—and tonight is no exception, he can barely stand—"you don't reply to my texts, you get annoyed if I don't text you back. It's all on your terms, and I never say anything about it. I'm more than understanding about it needing to be 'just you and Kaley' right now.

"The fact that I drive over here, usually at the drop of a hat and close to the middle of the night, to see you for what could be an hour at a time should tell you I'm more than understanding." Or extremely stupid.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," he says, almost contritely. "I just don't like you thinking there's anyone else. Maybe I should just be single."

"You are single," I whisper, because the last time I checked he was, and he can't be classing me as anything close to being his plus-one. Edward never has before; any time we've discussed it he's always avoided the topic.

"Celibate then."

"You could never be celibate."

He laughs. "Probably not. But being serious for a second…"

"No." I can't do it. This is the first night in seven weeks I've spent the night and I don't want to have an argument.

"Fuck. You always do this." He's a fine one to talk. Turn the tables when he's sober in the light of day and if I have any questions for him it's an interrogation.

"Fine!" I sit up and can feel Edward's eyes boring into my back. "Weeks ago you couldn't have been happier that I might have been moving in down the street or around the corner. Christ _you_ were pointing out apartments! Then the week I put down a deposit you tell me you don't want it."

"I messaged you back as soon as you text me," he defends.

"Yeah," I say looking at my hands, watching silent tears fall into my palms. "I remember." I had wanted to speak to him; either swing by or call. His reply had cut me in two. _I'd rather you didn't, and I'd rather you didn't move so close. We'll chat soon._ He didn't want to talk to me, didn't want to see me, didn't want me moving. "But I know all those other times you'd had something to drink so maybe that was the difference, maybe you didn't know what you were saying."

"I remember saying it. I'd just had more time to think."

"Yeah, time to think." He's not the only one.

In the seven weeks since my birthday I've been here twice, each time for no more than two hours. There have been other nights Edward's text to ask me over, either to stay or just to play, but I've declined. The truth is being sick is making it easy to keep some distance. It's given me time to realise that no matter how I want to try and see things when I'm with him, he really doesn't care about me, at all.

It was initially four weeks before I could get out of bed and come over to his apartment, too weak to move or stray from the bathroom, and the times I told him I had stomach flu he didn't ask how I was—he just didn't reply. I'm not so naïve that I don't think anyone else was here when I said no. And that's what I tell myself now, to try and stop from becoming more attached, to stop from falling any further into him: there are others, I'm not his usual type, and I'm the last one he texts when he wants sex, which is why his messages always come so late.

A knock at the door tells me Edward's food is here and I get out of bed, answering the door in my panties and vest. He's too drunk to serve it himself, so I head to the kitchen and plate it myself, bringing it back to him in bed.

"Did you just answer the door naked?" he asks annoyed.

"No," I sass, gesturing to my underwear.

"Get your ass back in bed." He flips the duvet back so I can climb in. "Aren't you having any?"

I shake my head. "Too spicy, remember?" He frowns and I roll my eyes. I hate that he gets repetitive when he's been drinking.

"No extra chilies though," he grumbles.

I laugh at his pouting lip. "Indeed not. I see that you have managed to kill off the chilli plant as well as the bonsai tree. Well done, all you had to do was water it."

"I will love it back to life again, just you wait and see!" he states defiantly.

My chest constricts as I remember back to the day I brought the plant here. The overwhelmed look on Edward's face, him positioning it on the window sill straight away, my stupidity at believing it was some sort of turning point for us.

"It's dead. Love won't fix it."

"Just you wait. Love is all it needs," he says again, forking a large piece of chicken into his mouth.

I decide there's no metaphor here. I'm exhausting trying to over analyse our situation. I've tried loving him and he's—we're—still broken. Love won't bring his plant back any more than it'll restore his faith in women, and I'm only hurting myself trying.

Out of the blue, I quietly say, "I've got tests at the hospital at the end of the month." I watch him out of the corner of my eye and he falters a fraction, his eyes flicker, and his jaw clenches, but he says nothing. The T.V. fills the silence between us and I wonder if I should repeat myself but decide not to. Edward always hears what he wants to. He just doesn't care. I was right to keep it to myself in the first place.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: November 6th**

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><p><strong>Chapter 42<strong>

I arrive at the door feeling totally ridiculous. Never in all my thirty years have I ever worn the kind of fancy underwear that I'm wearing now—not even on my wedding night.

Edward opens the door with a lazy grin on his face and I brush past him, eager to get inside and hide my own embarrassed face.

"Are you wearing them?"

"I feel silly," I say, sitting on the sofa, avoiding his eyes. He sits down next to me and kisses a trail up my neck. I barely relax but as I do he hands me the box with the stockings in it.

"Put these on."

"They aren't going to fit," I state meekly, hoping that he's bought the wrong size and I won't have to dress up for him. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I don't believe that I'll feel, or look, sexy doing it. I don't want to disappoint whatever image he has in his head.

"They will. Come on, please?" Edward's kisses continue, and I relent, opening the box.

I carefully slide the right stocking up my leg, snapping the front suspender into place but struggling with the back. He leaves me to it and walks to the bathroom. When he comes back out I'm still fiddling with it. "Stand up, I'll do it," he says gently.

"No. You'll be too drunk to do it," I say moodily. "I don't want you to rip anything." I finally get it snapped in place and start on the left one. It also takes about ten minutes, but while I'm doing it he runs his hand up and down my stocking clad right leg, hooking his fingers under the ribbon of the suspender. At least he's enjoying himself.

Just as I clip the back one on he starts to tug at my dress. "You're so impatient, do you know that?" I laugh and stand up, pulling the dress over my head as I do. The overall effect seems to be worth it though. Matching black and teal, ribbons and lace with the added stockings, the only thing missing is heels—but he can't have everything. "You're also remembering that it's not a belt, right? The suspenders are attached at the bottom of the panties."

"I'll just pull them to the side then," Edward states, pulling me toward him.

"I don't think so. You'll rip them." This is the first time I've had them on; he's not tearing anything. But I don't get to protest any further, his mouth presses against mine and his hands grab at my hips and back urgently. I can feel his body, firm and hard next to mine, like any amount of space between us is too much.

"You look so fucking sexy in this," he murmurs, running his lips along my cheek and down to my neck, sucking the skin there and tugging at my hair while he does. My whole body feels like it's on fire. His hands running over my skin, across my breasts, and into my hair. His mouth kissing me, leaving me breathless, moving back to my neck—where I know he's marking me again.

"Are you trying to get me in trouble?" I whisper, enjoying the feel of his tongue.

"Mmmm."

"Maybe I should mark you, too?" I tease, pulling away from him and giving his neck a seductive lick.

"You can if you want, just as long as it's under my shirt collar." So he doesn't have to explain it at work—doesn't have to explain me.

I point at my neck. "Is this under _my_ collar?" Edward's smirk tells me it's not. "Rose will kick my ass when she sees it." Rose has told me on more than one occasion now that I should stop seeing him, that he's using me, that he doesn't care for me like she suspected he might have once. I know she's right, and I try not to talk about him at work when she asks now, but stop seeing him altogether? It's too hard.

"It's none of Rose's business." He backs up to the sofa and pulls me down over him, my thighs straddling his, pulling my panties to the side at the same time. I rock back and forth, slowly, while he thrusts without any real rhythm for a few minutes.

"All you're doing it teasing me," I whisper into his ear, pressing my breasts against him as I do.

"I know, but you like it." He runs his hands over my ass, under the suspender ribbons, cupping my thighs.

"I'm taking them off. They're in the way." I want to fuck him already. Edward unclips the ribbons with ease and I pout at him. "How come you can get them off so quickly and it took me so long to do them up?"

"I did offer to help," he defends.

"That just tells me you've had far too much practise." And suddenly I can't wait to get them off. What felt sexy five minutes ago now feels cheap, reminding me that I'm one of several and I'm nothing special. With the stockings off, I stand in my underwear for a moment, debating whether or not I should leave.

But Edward stands up and unhooks my bra, sucking at my nipples as he frees them, pushing my panties down my thighs as he teases and plays. So, I decide to stay. Not to please him, but because I want something too.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: I'm sorry this took so long. This last year has been quite hard for me. Things with 'Edward' stayed pretty static — you'd have been reading more of the same. I recently asked my husband for a divorce and I'm working through some major adjustments.**

**There is only a short epilogue to go and then this story will be completed. I'm working on this now and it should be up before the weekend. Thanks to those of you who have read and posted reviews and also to Momma Laura who checked in and gave me some encouragement.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 43<strong>

A Year Later...

I'm sitting on the floor in Edward's apartment sorting through the vast array of music files on his laptop. It's late, as usual, after midnight. Kaley is in bed and he's sitting behind me across the room on the sofa flicking through CDs while he drinks his beer.

Nothing has really changed. I've resigned myself to the fact that this—whatever we are doing—will never be anything more than a casual arrangement. I'll never meet his daughter. I'll never mean anything to him. We'll never _go_ anywhere or _do_ anything together.

It'll always just be this—Edward and me in the semi-darkness, in secret and hidden from the world. No declarations, no commitments; just our arrangement.

But then as the playlist changes, something occurs to me while music filters out of the speakers.

"You never heard the music track I recorded, did you?" It was an embarrassing gift from my sister last Christmas. I wasn't even sure I'd do it but when I walked into that sound booth and I picked the track, I knew I'd picked it for him, thought of him every second I sang it.

"No. Play it for me."

I change the song and pass Edward the device to control it. As the opening bars fill the room, I hold my breath and my stomach flips. I know I don't sound awful but I'm still nervous. Listening to it will let him know exactly how I feel without me having to say a word.

I sit in silence while the track plays. Keeping my back to Edward, I don't turn to look at him and he says nothing. Once it's finished I wait for him to say something, anything, but he starts the song again so I continue filing his music library.

On its fifth or sixth loop I hear movement and suddenly feel his arms around my neck and shoulders. He hugs me hard, pulling me back into him. "I love you, too." Edward's voice is a hot whisper in my ear, heard over the sound of my own singing still playing throughout the room.

I can't say anything. I stop breathing for a moment, not sure if I've imagined the words but he repeats them, again and again. Each time he does he varies the sentiment and reassurances. The breath I release is shaky and mixed with tears. I wasn't expecting this.

"Don't." He's been drinking. What if he doesn't really mean it? What if he forgets he's said it? I'll never forget—warm breath, strong arms, the timbre of his voice. If I say the words back now, sober as I am, I can't blame it on being drunk. Edward will know I mean them while he can take his words back.

What a mess.

He cradles my head between his hands, my tears making his palms wet, and tilts my head so he can look into my eyes. "I love you."

More tears spill over my cheeks and as Edward kisses me he coaxes me down onto the rug so he can show me how much.

Once we're dressed again and I'm sat finishing archiving his music files, a noise in the hallway stops me from tapping the keys. He makes no effort to get up from the sofa, no dash for the door as he normally would.

For a second I panic. I'm going to be seen. Should I try and hide? There's no time.

"Daddy, I'm thirsty." Kaley shuffles in, her fist balled in her eye as she rubs away the sleep there. She's precious. Ruffled, blonde waves covering her shoulders, eyes the same color as her dad's, tiny feet padding across the hardwood floor. I watch her quietly as she moves through the room, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

"Okay, baby. What would you like? Do you want some OJ?" Edward sits forward on the sofa with his arms outstretched and she walks to them.

I continue to silently watch, hoping the shock isn't apparent on my face. She nods her head and he makes no effort to usher her from the room and away from me.

"This is daddy's friend, Bella, are you going to say hi?" He looks between Kaley and me but she stays quiet, burying her head into his shoulder. "Are you not saying hi, sweetheart? Bella's lovely."

Kaley peeks over at me but is still unsure of the stranger in her father's living room in the middle of the night. Clever girl. This wouldn't have been my first choice ideal meeting, but I am, at least, dressed and I will definitely take what I can get.

"Hi," I say softly, trying not to scare her. "Are you shy?" That's enough for her to push her face back into her dad's shoulder.

Edward takes her hand and leads her toward the kitchen. "Come on then, sweet pea, let's get your juice then back to bed."

Watching them leave, I try not to over think things but I can't stop my mind from racing, from wondering why tonight was different. Why he let Kaley see me, why he introduced me and why now, after all this time, Edward said those three little words.

But I can't fathom it, I've no explanation. He remains an enigma.

A month later I'm curled up on the sofa as he passes me back my phone.

"I was about to do something really bad there," he says with a smile on his face.

"Like what?"

"I was going to update your status to say where you were and who you were really with." Edward's smirk is boyish and playful though something in his eyes tells me maybe he _wants_ to tell people, that maybe he's still just a little unsure.

Testing the water, I say, "You think that would be clever do you? That would be the fastest way to get me here with a bag packed."

"What do you mean?" He looks at me hesitantly. I'm sure he knows the answer but he wants me to say it out loud.

"Where else could I go?" I raise an eyebrow at him and he relaxes the expression on his face. "Exactly." My voice is matter of fact. I know I've just proved my point.

I start to walk passed him but he loops his arm around my waist. "Do you really think I'd turn you away?"

Edward's given me no reason to think not. He still doesn't reply to text messages; I've no faith in him answering his door to me, uninvited, especially on the proviso that I may need to stay for a few days. How would he explain it to Kaley?

"I know you would." I can hear the sadness and dejection in my voice, my own insecurities and doubt that he wants me. "I know you pretty well, with almost only one exception." Two glasses of wine allow this last comment to slip passed my lips.

"Oh? And that is?"

"I've no idea how I'd tell you I was pregnant." This is no surprise to him; I've said as much before. But what I say next _is_ new. "I imagine if I did ever need to tell you though, your first question would be, _is it mine_?"

The look on his face tells me I've gone too far.

I'm quiet as Edward storms into the kitchen and back out again almost as quickly. "Now that's just pissed me off."

I want to tell him I'm sorry for saying it, that it was mean and only said to see what he'd say. In truth, I doubt it would be his first question, but it would kill me if he asked it at all.

Instead we are silent. Almost five minutes passes while he flicks music tracks and I lick my lips and pick at my bracelets.

Then it starts; the conversation that has the potential to change everything. We're both scared. Separately, our lives are comfortable, familiar and safe. We don't know what to expect if we let each other in completely.

We're unsure how the logistics work for becoming a family. Who moves where? Will we all fit? Can we afford it?

He has baggage, is that what I really want? I silently wonder if he'll be patient with me while I scramble to catch up with Kaley. I want to be an important part of her life, but I'll be jumping in with both feet. I'm terrified I'll be out of my depth and before long he'll tire of my failings or mistakes.

Can Edward find room for me in his existing routine? Or make the adjustments that suit us all? I hope so.

Our conversation comes back to my earlier jibe about pregnancy and I confess my fears of an unexpected baby meaning he lets me into his life by default or obligation.

"I'd rather do it by myself than force you into a choice you don't want to make."

"Maybe it's the kick in the ass I'd need." He's kneeling in front of me looking so sincere I want to believe him. "We'd make it work." Edward's fingers begin to trace a pattern on the skin of my leg. "What do you want?"

It'd be so easy to tell him: I want to be a family. I want him and Kaley. I want us together, however long it takes and however it happens. Just the three of us, or more of us, I'm so happy either way, whatever happens.

But all I can do is look at him. What if my words scare him away? What if he's happy with the way things are? What if I'm pushing for too much too soon? I've been patient this long; what are a few more months?

Whimpering drifts down the hall and I small sadly at him. "Kaley's up."

"I'll be back, okay?"

Watching him disappear in the darkness, I lie back into the cushions and get comfortable. I don't have to go home tonight; I can sleep with him on the sofa, as long as I'm gone before Kaley wakes up for school.

As I breathe deeply, lying in the muted glow of the floor light, I realize Edward really is trying. Maybe I could have offered him something when he asked. I wish I knew what _he_ wanted.

It's not long before he reappears, but when he does he starts to switch off the lights. Taking my hand he says, "Come through with us."

Suddenly I'm terrified. "What?"

"Come on. Come to bed."

"But... Kaley?"

"It's fine," he reassures.

"She doesn't know me!"

"Come on." He tugs my hand and I follow him down the hall hesitating at the bedroom doorway. Kaley's curled up in her daddy's bed, looking at him and peering at me. He gets in and pulls the duvet back for me.

"This is daddy's very special friend, Bella." Edward reaches for me and I shuffle forward, scared that Kaley will make a scene and reject me. If she does, it's all over. His sun rises and sets with this little girl. "Will we make some room and shuffle over?"

They both slide over and I sit on the edge of the bed, pulling the duvet over my thighs. "Thank you," I say, more to Kaley than to him.

"Are you not going to say hello?" he prompts her as she hides from me. For all of his comments about how talkative and social she is with strangers she's adorably shy. It pleases me a little because maybe that really does mean I'm the first 'special friend' her daddy has introduced her to.

Kaley shakes her head and wraps her arms around him. I've no idea how to do this in front of Edward. Thankfully I don't have to.

"Will daddy go and get some snacks and leave you girls to say hello?" As he asks, he's already untangling his daughter and climbing out of bed. He must see two sets of wide eyes staring at him from the bed because he smiles at me and rubs my shoulder in encouragement.

"No, daddy!" Kaley starts to panic and gets up too, not wanting to be left with someone she doesn't know.

"Daddy's going to get some snacks for you and Bella to share, sweet pea." Then he lowers his voice in an exaggerated whisper as if I can't hear him anymore. "You have to watch out for Bella, she's scared. Are you going to say hey and make her feel welcome?"

She giggles and looks at me. I smile back, quite certain I must look terrified because when her father leaves she stays and plays with her chalkboard.

With him out of the room I ask a few questions about school. My own panic starts to elevate when she doesn't answer, choosing to sit quietly and draw instead. But when the snacks are brought through, Kaley and I divide up what's there, talking about favorites and saving some for tomorrow.

When her dad tries to get back into bed she tells him to go away, it's just supposed to be the girls. I laugh at Edward's affronted face and he disappears again for five minutes, but it's after midnight and she has school in the morning.

"Come on, it's bedtime." Our time is up pretty quickly when he reappears.

"Let's squeeze up and make some room for your daddy." While Kaley shuffles over I pop to the bathroom. When I come back they are both in bed reading her school book. I curl in behind them, listening to his voice as he reads through the first few pages.

I've never seen this side of Edward before and I'm grateful to be included.

"You read it." Kaley pushes the book toward me and I take it as she scrambles over her father to settle in between us.

With each paragraph I read, Kaley creeps closer and closer until she's snuggled right against me, comfortable with me sharing her space. I read a few more pages before putting the book down and turning out the light.


	44. Chapter 44 - Epilogue

**Epilogue**

As I look back over the last two years, there are times that I can see a change in us both and times when I see no difference at all.

I'm involved in parts of Kaley's life—something I never believed possible—and I've met Edward's mother. Something I never honestly expected to happen.

I've put the first steps in motion for my divorce and I've told Edward what I want: him and Kaley, a hundred percent, all of the time.

But I know he's not ready yet. Edward and I both teeter on the edge of a sword. When things are good, they're great. But he still keeps me at a distance and I'm still terrified that I'll push so hard that I scare him away; so I continue to hold back.

He tells me Kaley loves me to pieces and, despite his own declarations, I can't help hearing, _But I'm not quite there yet_.

In truth, I've no way to tell, not really. Only Edward knows what he's thinking and how he's feeling. We've reached the stage now that if we want our situation to change, we actually need to start talking to each other.

I don't know how to make this happen right now. I want it badly enough that it physically hurts my chest most of the time, but I can't want it for Edward too. He needs to come to it on his own.

Can he find a space for me in his life or in his heart? I've no idea. Only time and patience will tell.

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><p><strong>AN: This is the last chapter. Thank you to those who have been reading and to those who reviewed. I've no idea where things go from here but it seemed fitting to wrap things up at this point.  
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